


all of me is all for you

by MardyBum394



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexuality, Co-workers, Coming Out, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depressed Harry, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Living Together, M/M, Professors, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-08-22 04:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 64,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16590512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MardyBum394/pseuds/MardyBum394
Summary: Harry is a new Arts professor at a London university, where it just so happens the other boys are working. Louis is a Literature teacher and likes partying, one night stands and, well, reading. He is quite depressed with his unsuccessful love life. Harry is a happy soul, until he starts to have some issues with his sexuality. Not to give much away, but if you are ready for cozy scenes, cheesy jokes, some angst and just boys being boys, you are in the right place c:





	1. chapter 1

“Yeah, mum. I’m almost here. Yeah, yeah, everything is alright. Love you too.”  
Harry got pushed out of the bus by a wave of passengers. Heavy drops of water got lost in his curls and went down his neck. He took out his ear-buds, and David Bowie’s voice got replaced by the tattoo of the rain and cars on the road.  
Harry looked around, spotted a building a few yards away, and headed there. He ran up the slippery steps and took a deep breath. As if somebody switched on Gemma’s voice, he heard: “To the new day in this uni, Hazza”. He smiled and brushed his hand through his hair. Probably not the best idea, but who cares. The doors closed behind and he the smell of the wood and his own damp hair hit his nostrils. Ew. He shook his head like a puppy and went straight to the reception desk. There he found a young girl, probably one of the students.  
“How can I help you?” she asked without looking up from her textbook.  
“Emm,” Harry coughed, “Hello, I’m Mr. Styles,” a little Gemma inside him cringed. “I'm a new Art professor. Could you tell me where the teachers’ room is?”  
She finally raised her eyes and smiled almost at once. Good, means Harry didn’t look that bad after all. She was fairly pretty, with fair hair, blue eyes and braces, that made her lips look a bit bigger than they actually were.  
“Down the corridor, first door to your right.”  
“Thank you,” Harry smiled back and headed where the girl had pointed to.  
His steps were too loud in the empty corridor. Damn those bus schedules, they are never right with your timing. Seriously, who the hell comes so early to work? Harry took a deep breath, feeling like his heart was beating louder by the second, and pushed the doors open. Oh. Turns out he was not alone after all. Behind one of the tables there was a lady in her thirties, all curly hair and sharp glasses. She smiled widely when she saw him.  
“Mr. Styles? Good morning! I’m Rita, I teach Public Speaking and a few English courses.”  
“Good morning,” Harry hoped his smile was nothing short of pleasant. He shook her hand and took a mental note of her accent. It was quite nice, almost not there. Harry’s bet was on French. Also, not to be that person, but she seemed to like asking questions. Public Speaking, was it?  
“How do you find London? Had enough time to settle down? You’ve come in August, haven't you?”  
“Yeah, I like it here, pretty interesting. But also pretty rainy,” and Harry wasn’t that talkative. After all, was she a FBI agent? How did she know all of this?  
Rita laughed and Harry smiled back uncomfortably. But at this moment the doors opened and in came his resque: he turned around to the sound of the creaking door, and saw two people in the doorway. A tall skinny man with dark hair was holding the doors for a very pretty girl. She was quite tall too, her fair hair in a low ponytail. She was the first to notice Harry, and soon he found himself shaking hands with her.  
“Hi, I’m Gigi, nice to meet you”.  
“I’m Harry, nice to meet you too,” her hand was soft and cold. He let her go and she stepped back a little.  
“I teach communication courses, and-”, she trailed off and turned around to look at the guy. It seemed they were a couple.  
“I’m Zayn, Zayn Malik. I teach English,” he reached out to shake Harry’s hand too, to which the latter gladly complied. “Nice to meet you. What do you teach, by the way?”  
“Art. I’m here for one semester.”  
“‘fraid you might not like it here?” Zayn smirked and leaned against the table. Gigi sat down near Rita and they started chatting.  
“No, not that. It’s just I have an internship here, so I’ll see how it goes,” Harry went for a shrug. He didn’t know whether he liked Zayn or not.  
“I see,” Zayn nodded. “Well, hope you like it here anyway. There is a bunch of young profs, so I don't think you'll get bored,” he clapped Harry on the shoulder and went to join Gigi.  
Harry just nodded and returned to his bag. He wanted to look through the papers he’d prepared for the class. Harry hoped to get his students engaged in his subject and give them at least a bit of that love for art he had himself. But of course, the first class is always just the getting to know each other part. He started imagining how it could all go wrong, when the doors opened again and a rather old, yet very energetic lady entered.  
“Good morning,” she said and Harry noticed Zayn immediately getting up. Gentleman much?  
“Mrs. Kvissy.”  
“You gotta be our new Arts teacher,” she came up to Harry and shook his hand. Harry smiled at her and nodded.  
“I’m Harry, nice to meet you.”  
“Lyan Kvissy, and you can call me Lyan, honey. I try to teach them all some math and calculus, you know. Doesn’t always go that well to be honest,” she winked and Harry felt like he liked her even more. Zayn barked out a laugh, but Lyan only flipped him off. “Don’t pay attention to us, dear. I dragged Zi and Gigi here from Bradford. That boy was the best at math in his year, but went for languages instead.”  
“Lou was pretty good too, Mrs. K.”  
“Of course he was, because someone very clever tutored him every evening,” Lyan rolled her eyes, but Zayn merely shook his head and went back to his papers. Harry had nothing left but to smile politely and nod at Mrs Kvissy.  
The doors opened again, and Harry turned to look at the newcomers. This time there were three of them.  
“Oh, newbies, hola!” a guy immediately came up to him and shook his hand. He had brown hair, mustard colored sweater, a bit of a beard and a very pleasant accent. Ireland? “I’m Niall, Spanish teacher.”  
“Hi, I’m Harry, I teach Arts, nice to meet you,” he honestly felt like he could have just recorded it and replayed every time. Niall smiled even wider and clapped him on the shoulder. Then he went into the room and almost choked Mrs. Kvissy with his hug.  
“I missed you too, Niall,” she managed to squeak out.  
Another bloke appeared before Harry, that one was a tiny bit bigger than Niall, had a proper beard and brown eyes.  
“Hey, I’m Liam, I’m the footie coach.”  
Harry’s eyebrows almost swept his hairline. The third guy behind Liam snorted.  
“In a suit?” asked Harry, a bit put off. Liam was wearing formal trousers and a shirt. The third guy rolled his eyes.  
“Nah, he just carries his adidahs in his bag,” the guy pointed at the bag Liam was holding in his hand.  
“You mean “adihdas”, Tommo?”  
“Oi, shut up, Niller,” Tommo frowned, and Niall burst out laughing. Wow, that was some strong accent. Liam laughed too, and Harry thought his laugh was a bit childish. He looked so sincere, Harry even thought Liam must be a ball of sunshine, which London was so desperately missing in that time of the year.  
“Yeah, so, I just bring it with me,” Liam added without any need. Harry nodded and Liam left him for Niall.  
“Adidahs," only mocked Niall one more time, and Tommo smirked. The guy finally came up to Harry, and he noticed that he was quite shorter. Well, that was true for the majority of people around Harry. The guy’s hair was pretty short, with a bit of a bang to it, and he also had some beard.  
“I’m Louis and I teach Literature”, he said and Harry once again noticed his accent.  
“Sheffield?” he tried to place it.  
“Doncaster,” nodded Louis, satisfied.  
“Almost,” Harry said under his breath. “So, Literature?” Harry shook Louis’ hand and raised his eyebrows. The thing was, Louis didn’t quite look like a Literature teacher. He had light baggy jeans, white sporty socks and sneakers on. But, Harry had to admit, he had a shirt underneath his sweater. And he also had very small hands. Or were Harry’s just too big?  
“Exactly,” Louis smiled back, all crinkled eyes and small teeth. Harry thought that not only Liam looked like-  
“I think I have to go,” Harry let go of Louis' hand and looked at the clock. He had only five minutes before class, and he still had to find the right room. “See you,” he waved at everybody, took his bag and left the room.  
“Good luck!” he heard in a heavy accent.  
Goodness gracious was Harry nervous. He wasn’t a student after all, he was the bloody professor! Students here couldn't be that much of a difference from the ones back home now, could they? Breathe, Harry. But he had one more problem. Even though he went away, his mom managed to make him dress “properly” for the first day. He is a professor and all that. Blah-blah-blah.  
The thing was, Harry was a sucker for loose shirts, thin chains, tight skinnies and hats, that went so well with his long hair. But today, only because he loved his mom so much (and she also made him send a pic), his not-so-loose button up was actually buttoned up properly, and his tight jeans were swapped for some strange looking formal trousers, he bought literally yesterday and already hated with all his might. For all he knew, he must look like a damn hippie. He was already a bit clumsy, without any tight shirts and loose trousers, thankyouverymuch. How long would he last like that? A week? A day? Five minutes?  
The doors stood ajar, and Harry entered the classroom. He saw a few students exchanging looks, and caught a girl asking her neighbor if Harry was a new student. He stopped himself from smirking at the last second. Did he still pass for a student in his twenty-four? Well, not bad, Styles, not bad. He put his bag onto his own desk and looked at his students. He caught a few more glances, and smiled at them, hoping he looked friendly. Not so easy with a resting bitch-face, after all. The clock soon reached 8:30, and Harry clapped his hands together, bringing silence to the classroom. He swallowed. His heart was beating so loudly he was afraid somebody else would hear it.  
“Good morning! My name is Harry Styles, I’m your Arts teacher for this semester. You can call me just Harry,” somebody nodded, and he continued, "so today we’ll just get to know each other, and I'll tell you a bit about the syllabus and let you go early I expect. Sounds alright?” he raised his eyebrows. Now the students smiled, and Harry nodded at them. “Great. So now I’ll just go down the list of names, and when I call out yours you’ll tell me something interesting about yourself. Anything you want me to know. What inspires you, what you like to do, what you hate. Anything. Alright?” He really has to stop saying 'alright' all the time.  
There was a murmur of agreement and Harry took the list.  
“Oh-kay. First off, Alex Burn.”  
“Here, sir. I love music. A lot.”  
“Wow, great. Let me see. I love the 80s I guess,” Harry smiled at Alex, and put “music” next to his name.  
“Freddie is my favourite from back there!”  
“Man, don’t make yourself my favourite before the classes have even started, will you?” a few more laughs from the class, and Harry continued. “Moving o-on. Anna Kay?”  
“It’s me,” a girl in the second row raised her hand. “I like drawing landscapes.”  
“Well, you are on the proper road in this class, Ann. Can I call you that?”  
“Sure, sir.”  
“Just Harry,” he smiled at the classroom at large and looked onto the list again. “Mary Davin?”  
“Here, Harry, sir. I like walking around the city in the early mornings.”  
“Aren't you scared?”  
“It's quite romantic," she shrugged.  
“Okay, okay, you got me there! Aldi Stanes?”  
“Here, sir. I’m into boys.”  
The class went dead silent, and Harry swallowed.  
“Have you ever tried Freddie Mercury, Aldi? As I said, my favourite from the 80s.”  
Harry could have sworn the weight lifted up from his shoulders, when some of the students snorted.  
“Eh, I’m more into modern music, you know.”  
“Well, I guess I’m a bit old for that,” Harry smirked. He went on down the list till the very last name. Getting to know his students took about half an hour. He put the list on his desk and looked around.  
“Well, now to the syllabus.”  
“Harry? Sorry, what about you? Can we ask you questions?”  
“Well, ask away,” Harry opened his arms. “But don’t cross the line, will you?”  
“What do you like to do in your free time?” asked Ellie, who drew tattoo sketches.  
“Hmm… Let me see. I like reading poetry, going to exhibitions, walking and thinking a lot.”  
“Do you draw?”  
“Nope. Sometimes I can write a poem, but drawing is just not my cup of tea. Only admiring,” he smiled.  
“And what about what you don’t like?”  
“My today’s outfit. No, really, I’m not even kidding. Me mom made me dress like this.”  
Students laughed.  
“Would you go for a leather jacket and torn skinnies instead?”  
“Hmm… Good idea!” Harry put his finger to his chin, faking deepthought. “I think all you have to do now is just wait till our next class,” some students smirked, and Harry hasted to add: “nothing outrageous, my friends, just not as... Professor-like?”.  
Some girls faked disappointment, and Harry smiled.  
“Any more questions?”  
Silence followed, so he said,  
“Nice, ask whenever a new one comes up. And now to the syllabus.”  
***  
Louis came into the common room, a cup of Irish cappuccino in his hand, and sank into one of the armchairs. The first class today was rather easy, at least because he knew almost all his students from the previous semesters. Now he was free till noon, when he had a class on Renaissance Literature, which, to be quite honest, Louis wasn't particularly fond of. Boring. But for now, he was all ready to enjoy the start of the semester, with no essays and assignments to check. When his coffee finally reached his lips, the doors opened and the new professor came in.  
“Alright, Curly?” said Louis and smiled at Harry, who sat down at the nearest table. Louis liked to give pet names to people. Harry frowned at him.  
“Curly? Really?”  
“How did it go?” Louis ignored the question, and Harry went with it.  
“Pretty okay I suppose, but that’s only the beginning, you know,” he shrugged. “Maybe they gonna hate me after”.  
Louis chuckled silently into his coffee, recognising himself in Harry.  
“Don’t worry. If you don’t give ‘em a lot for holidays and weekends, they won’t bother hating. You have a break now?”  
“Yeah…” Harry trailed off and looked through his papers. “Yep. Two hours till the next class,” he nodded at his schedule.  
“Wanna go have lunch?”  
“Lunch at 10 in the morning?”  
“Well, I haven’t had me breakfast yet,” Louis took another sip and shrugged. Harry nodded and smiled a bit.  
“Well, I won’t mind a cuppa and a cake.”  
“Excellent,” Louis got up, “there is a caffe near here, they make delicious tea.”  
“Do they have good lunch options though?” Harry raised to his feet too.  
“Don’t you worry, Curly, I’ll be fine,” he threw away his empty cup, chucked on his jacket and pushed the door open. “Coming?”  
Harry took his leopard coat and shrugged it on. Louis frowned.  
“Is that yours?”  
“Yes, why?”  
“Well,” Louis looked at him from head to toe, “not pretending to be a fashion expert, love, but shirt, trousers and leopard? Really?”  
“Literature, vans, and a sports jacket? Really?” Harry reached and unbuttoned his shirt to down below his pecs. “Better?” now his two tiny chains were visible from beneath the shirt, and, wow, Harry had tattoos. “I would throw on some sunnies, but you guys don’t seem to have as much sun over here. And my hat didn’t quite fit into my bag, sorry about that,” Harry shrugged.  
“Alright, alright, you win, Curly. I’ve just never seen such a deep decollete on a guy,” Louis tried for a joke.  
“Would you rather see it on a lady?” Was Harry flirting with him?  
“Nope, am just not used to.”  
“Nope?”  
“I’m into guys.”  
“Oh. Just like one of my students today,” said Harry and looked at Louis, fakingly suspicious.  
“Are you nuts or something? It is forbidden. And it’s not like all gays sleep with each other.”  
“Alright, alright, I’m joking,” Harry laughed with his hands up. “He just must be not your type,” murmured he under his breath.  
“Shut up, Curly.”  
“Nice weather today, don’t you think?” said Harry very loudly, smile big on his face.  
“Yeah, I’ll look at you after a semester here,” grumbled Louis, zipping up his jacket.  
“By the way, do you like it here? I mean the uni?”  
“Yep, that’s proper great. Don’t worry about that,” of course it’s good. Louis is perfectly well, thankyouverymuch.  
“And why there are so many young professors here?”  
“Many? Me, Zi, Gigi, Liam and Nialler. Math is not your cuppa, is it, Curly? I’d advise you go to Mrs. Kvissy.”  
“Are you all from one uni?”  
“I mean, Zayn, Gigi and I are sort of, they entered one in my place. Niall and Liam are from other places. And they came a semester later than us, which makes it last year.”  
They finally got into the caffe, Louis felt the warmth of the place and breathed in some good coffee. They sat beside the window, in the farthest corner of the room.  
“Is it the sun?” Harry looked from behind the wall into the window. And yes, he was right, there was a ray of sun that managed to sneak from behind the clouds. “Is it all I’m gonna get?” did Harry just pout? Really? Louis laughed and thought that Harry was still a child, just with inappropriately long legs. “What do you like to do here in your free time?” he asked.  
“Well, parties, dirty sex, and 20th century classic lit.”  
“Not bad,” Harry nodded and opened his menu. “For a Literature teacher not bad at all, huh?”  
“Thank you,” Louis smiled and opened his too. “I’ll tell it to me mom next time she makes me wear trousers for work.”  
“Do you live with your mom?”  
“Almost, she really likes to call me.”  
“Don’t you like talking to her?”  
“I do, why not. Just not every three hours, you know what I mean?”  
The waitress came up to them and they made their order.  
“I see you love your mom too,” Louis nodded at his shirt.  
‘I mean, it’s the first day, she was worried for me to make a good impression, so.”  
“She asked for a pic.”  
“Yep.”  
“And made you button it up?”  
“Yep. And to put on trousers, which she made me buy last week.”  
“How come you didn’t braid your hair?”  
Harry frowned and threw a napkin at him. Which, well, landed some few inches in front of him.  
“Shh, Curly, calm down.”  
“Why “Curly”?”  
“Any guesses?”  
Harry made a face at him, just as their order arrived.  
***  
When Louis came home that day, he thought about shaving. Beard was there when he was in the mood for it, and now his mood was to get rid of it. He switched on the lights in his bathroom, and the chill of the tiles hit his bare feet. He hissed and stepped further in. He came up to the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. His blue eyes were too bright on his pale face, his hair was practically a nestle of something very messy.  
“Well, hello, Louis Tomlinson.”  
He opened the counter and took out the razor. Every sound was so loud in the stillness of the flat. Lonely. Cold. Bad.  
He spread some shaving cream over his chin, took the razor and carefully slid it up his neck. He rinsed it off under the running water and ran it up his neck once again. Louis shivered from the coldness of the blade. He swallowed and went on. As he shaved, panic started rising inside out of nowhere. Loneliness. Coldness. Emptiness. Away-away-away. Run. Running. Football.  
It was almost five now, and quite dark outside because of the rain clouds. Not that Louis depended on the weather, but he wouldn’t mind a bit of sun. He took out his phone and called Liam.  
“You okay, Lou?”  
“Yeah, Li, hi. I’ll come today?”  
“Yeah, sure, the pitch is empty, I could wait for you.”  
“Amazing, see you.”  
“See you.”  
Shower was useless if he was about to get sweaty, so Louis opened the closet right away and took out his footie clothes. He put them all in the bag and threw his trainers on top. Few minutes later he was in his car again, heading for the university.  
He waved at Liam on his way to the changing rooms and finally took off his sweater and shirt that’s been choking him whole day. He looked at himself in the mirror. Louis was pretty self-confident, but criticized himself nonetheless. He liked footie, but just as much he liked partying and beer, and that, in his old age, wasn’t going away that easily. Louis wasn’t going for a Liam with all his muscles, but getting rid of a bit of a tummy wouldn’t hurt.  
He changed and walked out to the pitch.  
“Lou, I think it’s gonna rain, maybe you'd better go inside?”  
“It’s fine,” he gave Liam a thumbs up, “Don’t worry. Leave the keys for me, and go. Say hi to Cheryl for me!” Louis smiled, hoping it didn’t look as fake as it felt, while his insides were burning with something. And he hated himself for that. He didn’t mind Liam’s girlfriend. He was just tired of everyone else having amazing love-lives, but not him.  
“You sure?”  
“Li, leave it. Not for the first time, yeah?”  
“Well, if anything, call me,” Liam showed a phone with his hand, and the corners of Louis’ mouth almost twitched up. “Careful, yeah?”  
“You too. Take care, Payno.”  
Louis bit his lips and raised his fist in the air. He turned away and ran around the pitch. The had rain started and now it was obscuring his sight and dampening his headband, but he didn’t care. He focused on the fresh air that helped him get out all the smoke from his lungs and on the feeling of freedom that he got from running. After his round, he took the ball that Liam so carefully left for him. Footie was always there for him when Louis felt really down. Here he was in control of everything. Except the weather, of course. He could control his body and the ball, which he, unfortunately, couldn’t say about his life. It was all nice and stable now: a nice job, a rented flat, a bloody car! But his happiness was missing. His life became a routine, and no matter how much he tried to color it up with parties, one-night stands and books it all was temporary. Drunk evenings gave him a very short lived relief, sex without love very doubtful pleasure and books… Well, books were always there, he got used to them, and they didn’t bring as much novelty to his life as they did before. He had probably burned out.  
Perhaps that’s what the adult life was all about. But here is the secret nobody ever told him. People tried to simplify everything by putting it in a scheme: school, college, work, pension. But the scheme didn’t work! After college life just spit him out and left him with no instruction of how to live it. He found himself in London, with no friends or family beside him, and got a job of a literature professor. Louis a bloody literature professor! All his friends thought he was joking. He himself didn’t quite realise how it happened. He went with the flow and the flow brought him here. He had to admit people around him were nice, they even went out with the boys pretty often. At first. And then they all got themselves girlfriends, and now Louis was left alone, without a person beside him. Alone on the pitch, almost every other day.  
Soon the rain got too thick and Louis had to leave. He took a quick shower and changed. He started his car and then thought of something.  
“Up for anything?” he texted Zayn.  
“am free. be there in 30?” was the only answer he got. Louis smiled, now for real. How lucky he was he had Zayn, after all. They didn’t get together that often, but when one needed support, the other was always there.  
Soon he entered the empty flat once again. Louis hated loneliness. It felt so wrong, especially from his house back home, with all his siblings and the constant noise. He threw his sweaty clothes into the washing machine and changed into his sweats. Zayn knocked and entered.  
“Tommo, it’s me!”  
“Yeah, come to the living room, be there in a sec.”  
They spent the whole evening with beer, a footie match and chats about everything and nothing at all. At some point Zayn gently shook his shoulder, and Louis woke up, not conscious of falling asleep.  
“I gotta go, yeah?” he asked quietly, from somewhere above Louis. “Gigi called me.”  
“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry,” Louis sat up and rubbed at his eyes. “How long have I been?-”  
“About half an hour,” Zayn stretched. “Man, you are heavy, my legs feel funny now,” he clapped him on the shoulder and giggled. Honestly, Zayn could giggle? They got up and collected the bottles from the floor.  
“You know your bony knees aren’t that comfy either.”  
“Well, they weren't made for sleeping on, though”.  
“Get out, bastard, say hi to Gigi for me, will you?" Louis leaned against the wall beside the door, while Zayn was putting his coat and shoes on.  
“By the way, Gi is gonna make a huge lunch some weekend. Coming? ‘s been a while.”  
“Yeah, sure, won’t mind some home-made food.”  
“See you, Tommo. You alright, yeah?” Zayn clapped him on the shoulder again.  
“Yeah, thanks for coming. See you tomorrow.”  
“See you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fixed up the grammar and minor typos! Hope it's easier to follow the story now <3  
> Kissy


	2. chapter 2

When Liam was walking up to his car that day, along with the raindrops that kept hitting him on the face thoughts about Louis wouldn’t leave him alone. There has been something definitely wrong with him in these last few months. But the second somebody touched upon the topic he shut off and acted as if everything was fine. Just like today, when he put so much effort into convincing Liam that everything was alright, and then set off to play footie in the rain all by himself. The worst thing is, it was not the first time.  
Liam was driving around the university building when he noticed Harry, who was half running towards the bus-stop with his bag above his head instead of an umbrella.  
“Hey, Harry, you need a lift?”  
“If it’s not difficult,” Harry shouted back through the rain and Liam nodded for him to get in. “Thank you," Harry threw his hair back, sending drops everywhere. “Sorry.”  
“‘s fine,” Liam got back onto the road. “Why are you so late by the way? I thought classes ended, like, two hours ago?”  
“They did, yeah. I just wanted to sort my stuff out for tomorrow here, ‘cos I’m not quite comfortable in the flat.”  
“Noisy roommate?”  
“Yeah, he likes to have girls around, you know. And I have a couple right above me, and they like to quarrel so often, it’s insane.”  
“Eh, sucks.”  
“I mean it is all my fault. Didn’t think it through before moving here, kinda had to take the first flat that came along. But, it’s not that far from the uni at least.”  
“At least something,” Liam smiled and turned after the traffic lights.  
“Liam?”  
“Harry?”  
“How long have you been here?”  
“This is my third semester, why?”  
“Just wondering. You know, new place, I’m trying to understand if it’s good or no. Do you like everything?”  
“In general, yeah.”  
“In general?”  
“I mean, I’m a coach, right? I don’t mind it, the team is decent. But I always wanted to be a history teacher. Can’t really explain why. Silly anyway.”  
“Then how come you are a coach?”  
“To be honest, Harry, I can’t tell it for myself,” Liam smiled and stopped near Harry’s place. “I used to be a boxer, wanted to become a pro. You know, thought there is plenty of time for college later, and in sport you are wanted when you are all nice and young. But then I pulled a muscle, couldn’t box for a couple of weeks, a major fighting got cancelled - usual crap. I needed the money anyway, so I went for a coach. And here I am right now.”  
“Do you still wanna study for a professor?”  
“Already am. Hope to finish next year. But our uni’s history place is taken.”  
“As if ours is the only one in London”.  
“You are right, of course. But first I gotta graduate.”  
“Yeah.” There was a short pause, and Harry put his hand on the handle, intending to get out.  
“Harry?”  
“Yeah?”  
“I thought, since you are new, we could all go out to a club this Friday. I don’t think the boys would mind.”  
“Sure, count me in.”  
“Great. See you.”  
***  
“Lou?”  
“Mmm?” Louis raised his eyes from something on his laptop screen and looked up at Liam. He smiled and clapped the place on the couch for Liam to sit. Liam sat down and continued:  
“You alright? I called you yesterday, but you didn’t pick up.”  
“Yeah, sorry about that, didn’t hear. Then met up with Zayn, so kinda got lost, sorry. You wanted summat?”  
“Oh, yeah. Thought of going out to the club this Friday. You in?"  
“Sure. Who is coming?”  
“Us four, plus Harry.”  
“And?..”  
“Cheryl can’t come, and I don’t think Niall’s asked Hailey yet, and Gigi I believe will be there.”  
Louis nodded.  
“Pick me up at nine?”  
“Sure. Thought of giving Harry a lift too, so he knows where to go, okay?”  
“No problem,” Louis stared at his screen once again and Liam got up.

Louis tried to concentrate on his schedule on the screen once again, but the sofa beside him got occupied one more time. He smelled an almost female perfume and said without bothering to look up:  
“Hi Curly.”  
“What’s up?”  
“Nothing really. Remaking me schedule a bit,” Louis finally raised his head to look at Harry. Today he was sporting a light brown sweater, black skinnies, and a hundred-years old grey cap. “Did they ever teach you to take off the hat once inside the building?”  
“It’s meant to be so.”  
“Curly, you look like a bloody milkman from the forties.”  
“Tommo, shut up,” Niall appeared beside them and gently hit Louis on the shoulder with his binder. “Nice cap, Harry. Don’t listen to him, he likes to talk rubbish.”  
“How have you been, Curly?” Louis asked loudly, turning to Harry and showing Niall his middle finger. Harry snorted and Niall fluffed up Louis’ hair.  
“I love you too, sweetie.”  
Louis shot his arm out and pinched Niall’s chest.  
“You missed it!” Niall shouted out, throwing his arms up and going away with an unpinched nipple and triumph on his face.  
“What the-”  
“Forget it,” Louis smiled and looked at Niall, who was now apologizing before one of their older professors for shouting so loudly. “What’s up?”  
“You coming to the club?”  
“Yep, Liam’s just told me.”  
“Shit, sorry. I won’t interrupt you.”  
“It’s fine. Actually, where do you have your class?” Louis put his laptop into his bag and got up.  
“West wing, third floor.”  
“Oh, mine is on the fourth. Coming?”  
Harry nodded and went to pick up his bag. Niall went past and winked at Louis.  
“Don’t seduce him, Tommo,” he whispered.  
“Fuck off, Nialler.”  
“Do you always argue?” asked Harry and they went out into the corridor, Niall running for his class right in front of them.  
“Only on Tuesdays!” shouted Niall without looking back at them. “It’s all for lo-o-ve!” he shouted out and turned the corner.  
“It’s just Niall,” Louis smiled. They climbed the stairs to the second floor and Louis broke the silence: “You’ll like him too. Everybody does,” he clapped Harry on the shoulder, and the latter frowned. “Niall. Everybody likes Niall,” explained Louis, and Harry gave him a smile.  
“If you say so.” They got to the third floor, and Harry set off for his classroom. “See you,” he said over his shoulder, saluting Louis.  
“See you, Curly.”  
Louis climbed to his floor and got into the classroom, unnoticed by his students.  
“Good morning!” he said loudly enough for the silence to drop. “Welcome back!”  
He sat down onto his desk, crossing his ankles and looked around. A few new faces, a few old ones. That’s what the first classes were all about. “So, how has you lot’s summer been?”  
***  
That friday night Liam first picked up Harry and then Louis. When the latter got into the car, he looked a notch too excited and Liam cringed from the thought of how much Louis was probably going to drink that night. Last time they all went out together was about three weeks ago, but it didn’t stop there. During those three weeks after, Liam got called a bunch of times by Louis, asking him to drive him home because he was in no condition to use the public transport. Taxi was not an option, when you have Liam. “They call me names, Lima, I swear, I’ve called them!” was the usual answer for the taxi offer. Although probably Louis had just spent all the money on the alcohol and had none left for the taxi. Liam had nothing left to do except only to leave his lovely warm bed and go pick up Louis. A few more calls like that, and Liam swore, he would show Louis to the doctors.  
“How has your first week been going, Harry?” asked Liam to be polite.  
“Cool, thanks.”  
“Gonna get better,” pinched in Louis and Harry frowned in the rear view mirror. Liam met his eye and shrugged, silently asking him to just ignore it.  
Soon they parked outside the club and got inside. Harry immediately heard Niall’s laughter. They saw him near the bar, hugging a girl, whom Harry assumed to be Hailey, his girlfriend. They were grabbing their drinks when the others approached them.  
“Oh, hey, Harry. It’s Hailey, me girlfriend. Hailey, It’s Harry, our new professor.”  
“Nice to meet you,” Harry nodded and shook her hand. She smiled at him: “You too, Harry,” she smiled wider and nodded, let his hand go and gave Liam and Louis a one-arm hug.  
“We are at that last cubicle with Zayn and Gigi, alright?” Niall nodded at them and they left.  
Harry, Liam and Louis made their order and kept silent. Harry couldn’t stop glancing at Louis, who looked hungry for alcohol. Harry felt uneasy at the thought that he may have been anticipating this evening since Tuesday morning. He also felt a little sad. He didn’t like to get disappointed in people. He really liked Louis at work and he felt like he got along with him the best. But the fact that Louis got super drunk whenever he could, kept getting in his way. He figured Louis’ love for alcohol from the others’ talks and jokes about it. And, well, Louis had mentioned it on the very first day, hadn’t he? He was pretty much a daredevil, especially when his students couldn’t see him. And Harry had no idea whether he should worry about it or no. At the end of the day, they were just colleagues.  
They finally got their cocktails and joined the others in the cubicle. Gigi and Hailey had gone to the dance floor, so it were just the boys. Niall was laughing so much, Harry was afraid he would fall. Zayn kept telling the joke, smiling widely. Liam clapped Niall on the back and sat down beside him, Louis joined Zayn and they started talking at once. The music was so loud that Harry couldn’t really hear anybody. He stayed standing beside the table, feeling awkward and left out. Louis tapped the place beside him, without even looking up at Harry, and the latter sat down.  
“Alright,” shouted Niall, “wanna go dance?”  
Harry was a little taken aback, but got up and followed Liam and Niall to the dance floor. The other two joined them in a few minutes, and soon Harry found himself with Liam and basically two couples. Louis was somewhere near too.  
A few hours passed, and Louis kept on drinking. Harry kept giving him worried looks, but Louis didn’t notice or care, for that matter. When he came up to the bar again, Harry appeared beside him:  
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough for today?”  
“Curly, love, mind your own business, will you?” he was very drunk. Then suddenly he smiled at Harry: “Wanna dance?” He took his cocktail and jumped off the chair. Wasn’t the best idea. Louis started swinging and Harry caught him by the arm.  
“Okay?”  
“Is it the part where you kiss me breathless, Curls?” Louis smiled drunkily. He sipped his drink with a straw and kept looking at Harry. His cocktail was pink, and he looked frankly ridiculous. Louis nodded at the dance floor and headed there. Harry took a deep breath and followed suit. They stopped somewhere in the middle and Louis turned around to face him.  
“Hi, Curly. Would you mind a dance with me?”  
Louis became a child when he was drunk. He was so naive, forgetful and so terribly cute. Harry smiled despite himself and gave Louis his hand. The slow tune started playing, and everybody got into pairs. Well, except for Liam, Niall and Hailey, who managed to do the slow dance all together. Louis accepted Harry’s hand and put the other one onto Harry’s shoulder, pushing him with his glass. Harry just sighed again and put his free hand between Louis’ shoulder blades. He was the one who led them and Louis kept messing up and stepping onto Harry’s feet.  
“I’m sorry, Curly,” he would whisper and giggle. Soon the song ended, but Louis seemed not to notice. He literally hang on to Harry, keeping his head on his shoulder. Harry carefully hugged him to hold him in place.  
“Are you still alive down there?” he asked as softly as he could, although he felt a mixture of disgust and pity for Louis. He had to have a reason to get drunk, right?  
“Yeah, Curly, I’m sorry. I think I can’t walk really.” Harry didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so he did the obvious. He bent down and took Louis in his arms, bridal-style. He carried him to the bar, and thank Merlin (and Arthur, for that matter), nobody payed them any attention.

Liam was in the middle of the dance floor with Niall and Hailey, when Zayn clapped him on the shoulder. He gave him his phone, and Liam ran to the exit to catch some silence.  
“Oh, shit. Yeah, of course, be there in 20.” Hoping that there will be no traffic on the roads, Liam got back inside, grabbed his jacket and ran towards the door, accompanied with the music and his own heart’s beat, when he heard:  
“Liam!”  
Louis and Harry were standing beside the bar. Well, technically, Louis was hanging off Harry, who appeared to be much more sober. Just like the majority of other people in the club.  
Cursing himself and his idea, Liam hurried towards them. His thoughts ran towards Cheryl, who was having a fever, right freaking now. Damn this rainy London weather.  
“Waisted again?” shouted Liam, high on emotions he couldn’t bring himself to sympathise with Louis that much. Louis closed his ears with his hands and leaned closer to Harry. Liam took a deep breath and looked up at Harry, forcing himself to calm down. The latter threw Louis’ arm around his neck and held Louis with his right arm. He looked at Liam:  
“We need to get him home.”  
“I see, Harry. I’m sorry I can’t. Shit, it’s all my fault, but- Cheryl is super ill, I gotta go bring her medicine. I’m so sorry.” Liam truly was, Harry had nothing to do with Louis and didn’t have to take him home.  
“Okay, I’ll call a taxi then,” he nodded and Liam breathed in once again.  
“Thanks, mate. I never thought he’d drink so much,” Liam tried for a weak excuse, which was obviously a lie. To be honest, he just didn’t think anybody but him would have to deal with Louis. “Write to me once you there, yeah?”  
Harry just nodded and dragged Louis to the exit. Liam ran before them.  
“I’ll call the taxi and text you the number!” he shouted on his way.  
“O, Harry,” laughed Louis, still hanging on his neck. Harry only shifted, trying to get comfortable. He thought that now, for the first time in his life, he would like it to rain. Because there was a tiny chance that the rain would have refreshed that body that now so peacefully wheezed into his neck.  
“Ha-a-rry?”  
“Yes?”  
“Do you fancy calling the boys?”  
“What?”  
“Well...” it seemed Louis’ head got dizzy, so he rested it on Harry’s shoulder, pushing his forehead onto it, looking at his feet. Harry looked at him and almost smiled - Louis looked funny.  
“Oi, shut up. No “boys” today,” even if he called them, Louis wouldn’t even manage to undress them. Even himself. “And you gotta stop it.”  
“Wanna be my boy?” it seemed Louis thought he flirtatiously whispered it into Harry’s ear, whereas in reality he was talking to Harry’s shirt.  
Now Harry thought he looked pitiful. They kept silent, which Louis probably didn’t even notice. He only turned fully towards Harry, still resting his head on his shoulder. Harry frowned and Louis placed his hands on the small of Harry’s back, trying to keep standing.  
“You gonna sleep?” Harry murmered, not so offended anymore. At least now Louis would be quiet.  
As if his request was heard, Harry felt a few drops going down his neck. The rain. Just on time.  
“Oh, look, our car,” he sighed with relief and helped Louis stand straight again. The latter kept sleeping, so Harry dragged him towards the car. The driver opened the doors for him and helped get Louis inside.  
“Thank you,” said Harry and sat beside Louis, who now rested his head on the back of the seat. When the engine started, Louis woke up.  
“Harry?” he sounded lost and surprised, and Harry barely managed not to smile. The driver did a sharp turn which made Louis fall into Harry’s lap. As if it was all planned, he shifted to get comfortable and looked at Harry:  
“Can I?”  
Louis now looked so small and helpless, just like a soaked through kitten, that Harry couldn’t bring himself to resist.  
“Do I have a choice?” he murmered and shifted a bit under his weight. Louis smiled guiltily and turned towards the driver. His shoulder was set against Harry’s leg pretty painfully, but Louis seemed to be falling asleep, so Harry didn’t dare disturb him.  
“Harry?” he asked very quietly after a few minutes.  
“Mmm?”  
“Could you- Could you stroke my hair, please?”  
Harry frowned and looked down surprised, not realizing Louis couldn’t see him.  
“Harry?” Louis eyes were still closed, but something in his voice made Harry surrender. He wasn’t smiling anymore, but sounded very much hurt and sincere; Harry raised his hand and let his fingers comb through Louis’ hair. He relaxed almost at once, and only then did Harry realise just how tensed up Louis had been before.  
Harry breathed out and looked into the window, while his hand kept stroking Louis’ head. The rain was still there, and Harry thought that he would rather have spent that Friday evening at home with a book and a cup of tea, and not in a club. At home. His head started spinning when he thought of what their flat must look like at the moment.  
“Louis?” Harry bent over him.  
“Mmm?” Louis opened his eyes and turned to look at Harry, whose fingers kept combing through his hair, without any conscious effort from Harry.  
“Can I stay at your place? How many beds do you have?”  
“Two. Of course you can, but why would you need the second one?”  
“I’m not going to sleep with you, idiot,” Harry leaned back against the seat. Louis sighed and turned away.  
Great, maybe Harry would actually get some sleep today. The remaining time till Louis’ place he stared out of the window at London. When the car stopped, Harry opened his eyes not remembering how he dozed off. He paid the driver, managed to get Louis out of the car and dragged him all the way to the house, praying that there was a lift there. He still contemplated the thought that a few minutes ago he was sleeping beside drunk Louis in the car, when the elevator got them to the right floor. How did he get into it? They got out on Louis’ floor and soon were in front of the flat. The keys.  
“Louis?” No answer. How did he even manage to sleep so soundly while being dragged? “God knows I didn’t want this,” Harry murmured and started tapping on Louis’ pockets. He finally located the keys in his front pocket, opened the door and got them inside.  
Harry switched on the lights and took off his shoes. He didn’t see it possible to take Louis’ shoes off, so he took him up, bridal style again, and went deeper into the flat. He found a bedroom with a big bed and breathed out. Louis was no light weight lifting. He carefully put him onto the bed and looked around. There was a bathroom door inside the room, Harry went in there and splashed his face with a bit of cold water. His phone started buzzing and he answered the call.  
“Harry? You home?” it was Liam’s worried voice.  
“Yeah, just got Louis in. Was planning on calling you in a mo.”  
“Thank goodness! Thanks, Harry, you know I owe you, mate.”  
Harry hummed something not particularly distinguishable and disconnected. He felt knackered. Harry went back into the room and came up to Louis. Arms above his head, feet still on the floor. No matter how much Harry didn’t want it, the truth was that he had to undress Louis. Well, he didn’t particularly have to, but it seemed like the right courtesy for letting Harry stay in the flat overnight. All in all, Harry was a guy, and Louis was no lady, he’d be fine.  
He sat down on the edge of the bed and put Louis’ legs across his lap. He first took off the boots and the socks, then the jacket. When he reached the shirt and the jeans, he stopped for a second, took a deep breath and started unbuttoning the shirt. To his surprise, Louis had quite a few tattoos. Harry had never seen them before. He didn’t even suspect Louis would have so many - he thought his fingers and wrists were the limit. Well, didn’t look like that. Harry shook his head and undid the belt. He was mentally thanking Louis’ sound sleep, while pulling down his jeans. He finally stood up and tried to place the almost naked Louis (Harry won’t think about it) into a more or less comfortable position. He tucked him in with a blanket, folded his clothes and placed them on the chair nearby before leaving.  
The flat was pretty large for just one Louis. At least Harry found one more room with a TV, endless book stands and a sofa. If Harry didn’t know Louis was a Literature teacher, he would have thought all the books were the landlord’s. He couldn’t comprehend sometimes how Louis and books were connected. But here they were, three stands with classics that had been read, and some probably reread a couple times.  
He stood in the door frame for a few minutes, taking in the room. Did Louis have a boyfriend? The flat would easily allow for two people, and his bed was quite big too. But, maybe, it was just what Louis wanted and could afford. Anyway, it was none of Harry’s business, and, he really was exhausted. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. He came up to the sofa, managed to undress, leaving the clothes where they fell on the floor, lay down on the undone sofa, wrapping up in a soft fabric covering from the armchair beside it.  
***  
Harry opened his eyes and frowned. Where was he? He sat up straight and looked around. His head was spinning. Club, dancing, Louis… Louis. He was at home with Louis. No, scratch that. He was at Louis' home. He heard himself breathing out and lay back on the sofa. What time was it? He didn’t see any clock on the walls, so he made himself disentangle from the covering, sit up and take his phone. The moment he was out of the blanket he trembled. He fished his phone out of his coat pocket and checked the time: it wasn’t even eleven yet. Not bad.  
He stood up and threw the blanket on again. It was pretty fluffy and tickly at his skin. He tried to recall where the shower was. In the bedroom?  
Trying not to stumble over his own feet, Harry approached the bathroom. Louis was sleeping so peacefully, only his head visible from under the blanket. If Harry didn’t see him wasted the day before, he would even thought it was cute. Harry shook his head. After all, yesterday, this cute (no!) little creature hanged on Harry’s neck in order to keep the vertical position.  
He got into the bathroom and put his hair up in a top-bun, lest it gets wet. He put the blanket onto the toilet sit, took off his boxers and finally got into the cabin. The hot water was slowly pouring down his shoulders, and Harry felt as if it took away all those last bits of alcohol, for which he was infinitely grateful. He couldn’t tell how much time he spent there, if not a millennium, but eventually he got out and searched for a towel. He noticed a few on the top shelf, and dried himself. Now there was a problem. Naturally, he had only one pair of boxers, that he took off just before the shower. Well, Gems. Pink boxers with flamingos were better than nothing, right? Harry threw the cover over his shoulders, ancient Rome style, and walked into the room.  
Louis was sitting in bed and looking around like a lost puppy, who had just got into a new family.  
“Ha-a-rry?” he yawned. “What are you doing here?”  
“For starters, I’d like to hear “thank you for dragging me home from the club”, please.”  
Louis frowned.  
“Thank you?” he uttered weakly. “But what about Li? Liam,” he dragged his hand down his face, still frowning.  
“He had some emergency at home, so he asked me to look after you.”  
“Oh, I’m sorry, I guess. I didn’t do anything?-” he looked Harry head to toe, stopping for a second at his boxers. “We didn’t?-”  
“Had sex? Nope. But I did undress you,” he put his hands on his hips, completely confident in his pink flamingo pants, part of which was visible from under his cover-robe.  
“Thanks,” Louis combed his hand through his hair and sighed heavily. He sounded tired.  
“Feel bad?”  
Louis just nodded.  
“Get some more sleep?”  
Louis shook his head and lay back on the bed.  
“Okay, wait here.”  
Harry went back to the room he slept in and put on his skinnies. Bright yellow shirt with sunflowers (which probably only Harry could pull off) he left on the floor.  
He entered the kitchen and started searching through the cupboards, looking for a frying pan. He finally found one and put it on the stove to warm up. In the meantime he poured some water into a mug, grabbed painkillers and went back to check on Louis. When he saw what Harry was carrying, he bit his lips and raised his eyebrows - a strange mixture of guilt and gratefulness in his eyes.  
“Be in the kitchen in five, okay?”  
Louis nodded and Harry went back to the kitchen to cook some eggs, because eggs was what Louis had plenty of.  
When Harry was plating their food, Louis entered the kitchen, in his sweatpants, an old baggy tee and the deadest face Harry had ever seen.  
“Better?”  
“Yeah, thanks a lot,” he nodded and cringed almost immediately.  
“Have a sit and eat?” Harry nodded at the table, while pouring water into the kettle. “Do you have any tea?”  
“O-o-ver there,” Louis pointed, yawning.  
“Tastes good?”  
“Hmm,” he sounded content.  
For some time they ate in silence. Harry felt quite awkward - he didn’t know what to talk about this morning. They weren’t that close at work. And here he was, cooking breakfast for Louis, and Harry couldn’t even tell if Louis minded it or not.  
“Harry?” asked Louis suddenly and Harry startled - so loud and unexpected it was. “Why did you stay over again? Not that I’m bothered or anything,” Louis gave his plate a tiny smile.  
“Well, I live quite far from here,” Harry put his tea cup on the table and put his hand on his neck. “And I thought I might catch some sleep at your place, ‘cos mine is quite noisy. My roommate I mean. So I thought I’ll take summat from you for my hard work yesterday,” he tried for a joke. Louis chuckled. “And I asked you yesterday, you agreed, so. Sorry if it wasn’t expected.”  
“Oh, thanks. Or welcome, I guess,” Louis screwed up his eyes and then opened them again. Harry found it very cute. It was strange how much Louis contained all at the same time. “Had a good sleep?”  
“Yep.”  
“If you want to we can rent this flat together. I mean, the house is probably better, and I don’t usually hear me neighbors,” suddenly said Louis. Wow. That was unexpected.  
“Really?” Harry put his cup down again and looked at him, surprised.  
“Yeah, why not,” Louis shrugged and closed his eyes again. It seemed his head still hurt.  
“And you won’t have any guys over every evening?”  
“Well, like once a week, on Fridays, I may have guests. Other than that, I guarantee you silence,” Louis opened his eyes and winked at Harry.  
“I’ll give it a thought, then. Thanks,”  
“If you’ll cook for us two, I can stay at their place,” Louis raised his eyebrows playfully. Harry was torn apart between the desire to laugh and to wink back.  
He went with the laugh.  
“Okay, thank you, I’ll definitely think about it now.”  
“Can I ask another question?”  
“Sure?”  
“What boxers are you wearing?”  
“Oh, these,” Harry looked down at his belly, where there was a pink line visible just above his jeans waistband. “My sister gave them to me for Christmas last year.”  
“My sisters give me teddy bears,” Louis smiled at his cup.  
“Teddy bears? Why?”  
“Who knows,” he shrugged.  
“You have many sisters?”  
“Five and one brother. Makes it six siblings.”  
“Six?”  
“Yep, and four of them are twins.”  
“Wha- Four? How?” Harry frowned.  
“I mean two are older, and three years ago I got another pair,” Louis smiled and took a biscuit. A very old biscuit.  
“Oh, now I see why you live alone.”  
Louis smiled wider.  
“Nope, I don’t like the silence. I’m used to the noise growing up, and I’m the oldest, so,” he raised his eyebrows again and sipped at his tea. “Looking after young people can be tough, but it’s fun. You have one sister?”  
“Yep,” Harry nodded and reached out for a biscuit too. “Gemma. She is older than- How many shenturies hath this one been ere?” Harry stood up and ran to the sink. He spitted out the biscuit and sent it into the trash bin. He washed his hands and dried them on the towel, leaning against the counter.  
Louis tried not to think about how good Harry looked in his kitchen. He must still be a bit drunk.  
“Sorry. Shopping is not my cuppa,” he smiled, forgetting about the headache. “I think I should pop into a supermarket some time this week.”  
“Some time this week? You have nothing except like three eggs and a bit of milk in there.”  
Louis sighed dramatically and Harry’s phone buzzed. He grabbed it and looked at the screen, frowning.  
“Oi, I gotta go, something is up with the flat. I’ll call you?”  
“Sure, thanks for the breakfast, Curly.”  
“Thanks for the sofa,” Harry gave him a small smile.


	3. chapter 3

Louis got up and put his cup and plate into the sink, cringing slightly at the annoying sound. He could literally hear the small hammers beating at the inside of his skull. He leaned against the cupboard with his forehead and breathed out. He heard Harry coming from behind, felt his warmth when he tried to put his plate and cup into the sink as well. Getting away, he accidentally brushed against Louis’ shoulder. Louis got goosebumps all down to the small of his back. He heard Harry retrieving, and then he called somewhere from the corridor:  
“I’ll call you about the moving stuff!”  
“Okay,” Louis answered so quietly, Harry probably didn’t even hear it. The doors closed, and Louis took a deep breath. Alone in the big flat once again. It would be nice if Harry moved in - maybe then Louis would at least try to act normally, and that could work. At least his psychologist said so.  
“Yes, Louis?”  
“Mary, hi, I’d like to make an appointment for today.”  
“Sure, I have a gap from three to four, pop in whenever.”  
“Thank you.”  
“See you.”  
Louis disconnected and dropped the phone on the table. He put his head into his hands and sat like that for several minutes. Then unexpectedly, he got another call.  
“Lottie?” he couldn’t, and frankly didn’t try to, hide his surprise.  
“Hey, Lou, how is it going?”  
“Fine. Something happened?”  
“No, don’t worry. I just wanted to chat,” he literally heard her shrug. Louis smiled.  
“Just to chat?”  
“Yep. You don’t believe me?” he heard offence that sounded so very childish. Now Louis was full on laughing.  
“Of course I believe you, Lotts. So how’ve you been? How is the weather?” the moment Louis asked it, he realized it was sunny today. “Would you believe me if I tell you we finally have some sun over here?”  
***  
“Mary, I… It happened again. I got so drunk I don’t remember anything,” Louis was ashamed of himself.  
“Did you have any specific reason to?” Mary was sitting right in front of him. She was all zen, her every cell opposing Louis, who felt anxious and on edge.  
“That’s the problem. Me friends just asked me out and I lost it”, he combed his hand through his hair. “Honestly, I didn’t plan to get that drunk. I hoped I’d manage to stop”.  
“Louis, don’t get me wrong, but I think you have to quit drinking. For good”.  
“I don’t think I’m able to”, he confessed quietly more to himself than to anyone else.  
“Ask your friends to control you. Replace clubs with something else. Why don’t you play football instead? Or go to the theater? You like literature, right?”  
“Yes, but-” theatre didn’t necessarily correlate with Louis even in his own head. “I’ll try”, he nodded.  
“Don’t worry. You just have to have a goal in mind. You should realize that alcohol gives only temporary relief. Try to be surrounded by people a bit more, go home to visit your family. Go out, get to know new people. Don’t border yourself with clubs and alcohol only. Trust me, many other things can bring you long-term happiness. Think about your priorities, your goals. There must be something you want to change”.  
“Actually, I’d like to lose some weight”.  
“Here you go! So research it, look what you eat, do some exercising, focus on this”.  
“Will it help if I get a roommate?”  
“I think so, yes. As long as you get along with them. And if he is not prone to going out”, she added with a smile. Louis returned one as well.  
He got out several minutes later, sun licking at his face. He smiled and went up to his car. But Louis didn’t go inside, when he got home - he went to the nearest park. The weather was amazing - the sun was high up, making it all warm and comfy. London didn’t give it to him for weeks, and Louis very much intended to catch the moment. Unmarked tests could wait inside.  
When he entered the park, he took a deep breath. However cheesy it may sound, he did feel alive in that moment. Louis loved such weather. It reminded him of spring, when everything was just coming to life. And even though till next nice day Louis’d have to live through the whole winter, he smiled nonetheless.  
***  
Monday, however, brought no sun, but only rains, so that Louis’ mood upon the school entrance was completely off. Not that he was that dependent on the weather, but lately he wanted a bit of sun in his li-  
He entered the teacher’s room and stopped in his trucks. A few yards away, bent over the table and looking through his papers, was Harry. And not that Louis was that surprised to see him (although he didn’t phone Louis to talk about the flat), no. The striking part was Harry’s appearance. Black skinnies were quite normal, but a bright pink heart-dotted shirt was pretty unusual. But even that wasn’t the most surprising. Harry’s hairstyle consisted of two braids on the sides and a top-knot. Did he braid it himself? Unlikely. Something fell inside, but Louis was determined to ignore it. If today was the first day they met, Louis was sure he’d have thought Harry was a lady. A very wide-shouldered one, but a lady nonetheless.  
“Curly?” he tried, still in the doorframe.  
Harry straightened up and turned around. He smiled and simply shrugged.  
“I’m sorry I haven’t called you about the flat. Didn’t have the number”, he said and went for a hand shake. Louis stopped.  
“Want me to kiss it?”  
“If you wish”, Harry smiled even wider and his dimple appeared again. Excellent, Curly lacked just that. Louis sighed and shook his hand.  
“So what about the moving-in?” Louis sat down at the table, praying that his voice didn’t sound very hopeful.  
“Wait for me on Friday”, Harry smirked and went back to his papers. “I just have to cancel my contract with the landlord and I’m free”.  
“Need help with the moving?”  
“Really? If you can, that’d be great. I don’t have that many things to move, by the way”, Harry looked at Lous, who just nodded and focused on his bag, denying the wave of relief that’d just washed over him. And no, he wasn’t waiting for Harry’s call all Sunday, of course no.  
***  
On Friday, Louis arrived at the address Harry’d sent to him and texted Harry. The latter ran down the stairs soon after, carrying a few bags, which he put into the car, and ran away for the others. After about half an hour he finally got back, breathing heavily, and dropped on the passenger seat beside Louis.  
“I’m done”.  
“And what did your roommate say?”  
“I don’t think he noticed, to be honest”.  
Louis smiled and looked at Harry, who sported a half unbuttoned bright blue shirt, skinnies and a top-knot.  
“Looking good”, he nodded, surprising himself.  
“Thanks, Lou”, Harry smiled sweetly. Lou? Louis’ lips twitched, wanting to smile, and he added:  
“Do you mind if we pop into a store? Don’t think I have much food”.  
“Yeah, I’ve noticed. Sure, let’s go”.  
“By the way, how about healthy eating?”  
“Pardon?”  
“Well, I wanted to lose some weight”.  
“Not funny”, Harry shook his head, a sincere regret on his face.  
“Screw you, Curly. I just meant that if you happen to cook something for both of us, could you opt for something healthy?”  
“Do I look like a cook?”  
Louis just shrugged and bit his lips, as if saying it wasn’t he who mentioned it.  
“Okay, you’ll have your chicken breasts with veggies”.  
Louis mentally said goodbye to all his favourite junk food, but promised he would get back to them some time.  
***  
“Chicken and veggies it is then?”  
“If it’s not a bother. I can help. But I don’t know how to”.  
“Of course you’ll help! But first I gotta change. Now come on, get out of my room”.  
“Look at him. Get out of my room”, Louis mimicked Harry’s low voice. Harry rolled his eyes at him. “Okay, okay, I’m leaving”.  
Louis left for his room and changed into a long sleeve and some baggy shorts. When he entered the kitchen, Harry was still not there, so he started unloading their bags.  
“Look at you, doing good”, Harry said, entering the kitchen.

When everything was ready, Harry agreed to let Louis into his own room, thankyouverymuch, to eat their supper in a company of some good old comedy.  
“Mmm, tastes good”, said Louis.  
“And how well the veggies are cut, mmm”, mimicked him Harry. Louis pushed his knee with his, and Harry snorted. “What did you eat before me?”  
“Well cut veggies”, Louis murmered to his plate, going for offended.  
“Did you just get offended?” Harry asked, smiling.  
“Did you just get offended?” Louis mocked him once again.  
“Come on, ‘s not funny anymore”.  
“Come o-”, Louis got hit in the head by the pillow, which had just missed his plate. “Curly!”, he tried to look offended, but his lips twitched up.  
“My apologies”, said Harry and put his plate on the table by the sofa. He sat back and looked at Louis.  
“Am I eating that seductively?”  
“Louis, do you have a boyfriend?”  
Louis choked. Something inside poked him.  
“Why d’you ask? You are straight, aren’t ya”.  
“Just thought”, Harry shrugged. “You lived here alone before me, and it’s a pretty big flat for one”.  
“I do love big spaces, just so you know”, Louis’ voice was completely dry of emotion. He wasn’t going to talk about his personal life with Harry, no thanks.  
“And you sleep with one-night stands?”  
“How is that your business, huh?” Louis’ threads started to rip off.  
“Sorry. I got too far”, Harry turned away and dropped his head. Louis wasn’t sure he’d noticed correctly, but he thought he saw guilt in Harry’s eyes.  
“That you did”, Louis tried to focus on his food, but couldn’t. F*ck everything. It’s Harry’s fault. Louis got up. “I’m gonna go to my room”, he put his plate onto the table and went towards the door. When he was already in the corridor, he heard Harry.  
“Louis, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to offend you, I swear. I’m sorry”. Louis only nodded, without stopping. He was not a robot, his threads could tear apart. He heard that Harry added volume on the TV and closed the bedroom door.  
Why did everything had to go wrong? Why the hell was Harry even interested whether Louis had a boyfriend or no?  
Louis remembered dark brown eyes, set deeply, sunburned chocolate curls and a very wide smile.  
“Lou, I’m sorry, I met a girl”. A girl!  
About two summers ago, Louis was sitting on that very bed, trying to occupy himself with something, but nothing helped. He sent a text “bored”, and sat there for another half an hour without any reply, looking at the phone screen all the time. But then somebody rang his bell and he went to open the door. Louis remembered perfectly well that he had to raise his jaw off the floor first, before he could speak.  
“Sam!”  
Man, those brown eyes were looking at him with such joy and anticipation. He gave Louis his hand and his smile grew wider. And off they ran, Louis still in his slippers, but he didn’t care. He ran, with the wind getting lost in his hair, and his throat felt as if scratched with sandpaper. That summer night met them with its odors, their lungs puffing with joy and their bellies full of something warm and beautiful. He didn’t know how long they’ve been running, holding hands and dying on each landing. All he remembered was that they finally found themselves on a bridge, leaning over the barrier and looking down at the water, breathing heavily.  
“Screw you”, Louis exhaled through a smile.  
“I missed you too, honey”, a kiss lingered in Louis’ hair.  
Louis shook his head, trying to get rid of the memory. Enough. He stared at the wall and remembered Harry. His soft waves instead of tight curls, the light of the green instead of the warmth of the brown, pale skin instead of suntanned, his long and sometimes awkward body, instead of stocky Sam. Harry wasn’t to blame. He wasn’t to blame for Louis’ attitude towards Sam. Harry wasn’t to blame for the fact that Louis had fallen so completely and quickly for a guy with brown eyes, and didn’t protect his heart. Harry wasn’t to blame.  
***  
Harry turned in his sleep and his hand touched something cold. He frowned and opened his eyes. There was a plate on the floor, where he’d put it yesterday. He got his hand back under the covers and tried to fall asleep once again. But thoughts started buzzing in his head and he remembered what had happened the day before. He could literally feel the guilt pouring down his shoulders. He opened his eyes and lay on his back. Maybe he could make it better with a breakfast?  
Harry stood up and got into his shorts. He stretched and went to the kitchen, hoping  
that Louis was a late night sleeper.  
He was lucky and the kitchen was empty. He tried to be as quiet as possible, when preparing the porridge and some tea. When everything was ready, his first thought was to go fetch Louis, but then he thought it may be better if he brings it straight into the room. But the thing was, that Louis didn’t have a tray, so Harry took a baking tray from the oven and put the breakfast on it. The he carefully took it and slowly went to Louis’ bedroom.  
When he turned the corner in the corridor, Harry stumbled into a very sleepy Louis. He startled and almost dropped the tray, but Louis automatically grabbed his elbows. Some tea dripped down the mugs.  
“Can’t you eat in the kitchen?” his voice was husky with sleep.  
“It was for you”, said Harry. “Sorry”.  
Louis raised his eyebrows inquiringly and then squinted his eyes. Harry  
prepared for a new quarrel, but Louis only said:  
“Breakfast in bed already, Curly?”  
Harry looked at him and smiled uncertainly.  
“Can I get to the loo, please?” Louis nodded at the door right behind Harry.  
“Shit, sorry, ‘f course”, Harry moved to the side. “Wanna eat in the kitchen?”  
“Sure”.  
Harry breathed out and came back to the kitchen. He whipped off the tea and placed everything onto the table, sending the tray into the sink. He sat down, with a fist under his chin and stared at the wall, thinking of nothing. He heard Louis washing his hands, then the sound of the lock, six steps - and Louis entered the kitchen, yawning widely.  
“Curly, I know you are not my type, but can you put a tee on?”  
Harry frowned and looked down. He completely forgot he lived with Louis now and had to wear clothes at home.  
“Yeah, sorry for that, just a sec”, Harry got up and went towards the door.  
“Oi, enough of apologizing”, Louis smiled and clapped him on a hip.  
“Wow, wow, wow, careful, I’m straight, Tomlinson!” Harry shouted out from his room.  
“What are you talking about? Tomlinson is no straight, Curly”. Louis sat down and started pouring milk into his tea, when Harry entered the room, pulling a tee over his head at the same time.  
“Whatta-”  
“What?” Harry sat down opposite to him and reached for his porridge.  
“Britney Spears?”  
“Any problems with that?” Harry send a spoonful of porridge into his mouth.  
“You are such a weirdo, Curly” Louis shook his head.  
“I’ ish wha’ i’ ish”, Harry said over the oatmeal.  
Louis snorted and laughed silently.  
“Enjoy your meal, Curly”.  
“You too, Thumbelina”.  
“Thumbelina?”  
“Curly?”  
***

“I’m straight, Tomlinson!” the words ran in Harry’s head in circles, like a broken cassette. He sank deeper and deeper into the memory with each repetition.  
“ ‘Harry?’  
Harry kept silent, his eyes closed. His mom dropped to her knees in front of the couch he was crumpled on, and he soon felt her warm and soft hands on his shoulders.  
‘Honey, what happened?’  
Harry sobbed and opened his eyes. He couldn’t see his mom - the tears blinded him. But inside he was burning. He thought his insides got all misplaced, and now nothing will be in the proper place ever again. He felt as if he’d become a small kitten, that couldn’t defend himself; that wanted to get into the darkest and furthest corner and never get out. He’d coiled up on the sofa, hoping to get as small as possible so that nobody would ever find him. When Ann appeared before him he had to raise his head. He slid down onto the floor and hugged her around the neck, not able to stop his tears. She hugged him tightly and started stroking his hair, whispering soothing words in his ear. They swinged from side to side, Harry still crying, even when Ann herself started sobbing. His petite body was trembling because of the tears, and his sobs made his lungs feel raw. Thoughts kept buzzing like bees inside his head, causing new tears to fall.  
“Shhh, sweetie. Don’t cry. It’s alright, everything is alright”, she kept whispering, still stroking his hair. Harry took a deep breath and uttered his first words in the whole evening:  
“Mu-um”, he sobbed, “Mu-u-um”, he sobbed again and leaned back a bit, to see her face. Ann whipped his tears with her thumbs, although that didn’t help for long - they kept coming. “I- I li-”, a sob, “IlikeMark”, he said very fast. He always did that when he was worried. Ann blinked and a single tear went down her cheek. Harry felt hurt. He couldn’t stand seeing his mom cry.  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna disappoint you”, he said, frightened, forgetting about his problems for a second. Ann smiled faintly and shook her head. Harry thought he saw relief in her eyes.  
“Silly little kitten”, she whispered and pulled him towards her once again. Harry tucked his face into her shoulder and frowned. He was so confused. He’d just admitted to not being normal. Everybody said it wasn’t okay. He was only fourteen, and already was not normal!  
“Mum?” he said into her tear-soaked shirt. “Mum, you don’t-”  
“Shh, kitten, shh. I understand everything. It’s alright. I’m with you. Don’t be scared”.  
“But- but it is not okay!”  
“Shhh”, only whispered she and hugged him closer. “We’ll get through it. It’s alright”.  
She kept stroking his hair, and kissed him on the temple. Ann whispered such warm and soothing things, that he eventually calmed down and melted in her arms. He couldn’t remember when he fell asleep, but when he woke up, Ann lay beside him on the same sofa. He remembered feeling relieved at the moment. His mom was hugging him, he was warm and safe.”  
Harry squinted his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. It was funny how right now he was again coiled up on the sofa, but this time the coil was much bigger, remembering that episode of his life for the first time in many years. He didn’t feel bad now, but he was confused. He had successfully put this memory far back in his mind, and didn’t retrieve it for a few years now. Now, looking back, he was not at all surprised he’d managed to forget it. Mark was sweet and wonderful, and Harry didn’t regret confessing to him, nor their time together. But after a year they split up, and after another few years Harry went off to college. He didn’t hide that he liked boys, by that time he was perfectly comfortable with himself. But after a few months there he was struck by the thought that he fell in love with a girl. He decided to give it a go, and it worked. He felt good there. His first sex was with her, and it was the first serious relationship in his life. He was much more mature, compared to his relationship with Mark, when he didn’t have a clue how that thing even worked. Since in the college he was seen only with Alice, nobody even thought he was gay. And Harry didn’t correct them - he went with the flow, promising to himself he’d deal with it later. But the problem was, that “later” never came.He freaking forgot he ever liked boys! He was so confused now. Was he gay? Was he straight? He didn’t have a clue. He had no idea what to do. Try to forget it all once again? He was alright now. Then why did he even remember it? His thoughts turned into bees once again, but Harry decided to let them go for the time-being. He just didn’t have any answers yet.


	4. chapter 4

At the end of September Louis was sitting in the flat alone, since Harry went away for some exhibition at God’s forbidden hour. Students’ tests were all over his desk, and he already managed to check about half of them, and was successfully finishing his pizza, by the time his phone buzzed. He frowned and reached for it. When he saw the last figures of the number, he felt the shock filling him up till the very throat, and his heart missed a beat. He opened the message.  
“louis im sorry to bother you, i have nobody else to write to. please come”  
“what’s going on?” he typed with slightly trembling fingers, fighting the urge to throw his phone away.  
“i can’t say it here. very serious. please come. same address”  
The last sentence burnt his insides and he turned off his phone. He put it away, and stared at the tests before him, strongly determined to ignore it. But a minute passed, then a second one, and Louis dropped his pen, got up and took his phone.  
“coming”  
***  
Louis didn’t know how he managed to reach Sam’s flat, because his insides were shaking with anger, offence and… interest? After all, they haven’t been in touch for a good few months (six and half, to be exact; and no, Louis wasn’t counting - absolutely not). And what was it which only Louis could be helpful for? Sam wouldn’t mock him. At least the Sam that Louis had known.  
He raised his hand to knock on the door, but it opened even before it.  
“Louis!” Sam was looking at him with wild eyes. He grabbed his wrist and pulled him in. Sam’s fingers’ grip was painful on the arm, but Louis ignored it. The flat was full of music noises, and a horrible thought of a party swept through Louis’ mind. Sam kept dragging him in, when at last they reached the room and all thoughts successfully abandoned Louis. There was a girl on the sofa. She coiled up and was breathing heavily. A strange smell filled the room. Beside the sofa there was a syringe, which made Louis check out the girl again. She was super pale.  
“You, jerk, are dating an addict?” he screamed into Sam’s ear. Louis jerked his arm out of his grip and approached the girl. He dropped to his knees before her, pulled her arms from around her stomach and turned her over onto her back. She was not conscious. “Turn the fucking music off!” he cried again. He got up and flinged the girl over his shoulder. Exiting the room, he shouted to Sam. “Take you docs and in ten seconds you are in my car!” Sam looked at him, frightened. “Move!” He nodded and ran off into the room.   
Now Louis understood why Sam had called him. Of course, you can’t know many people who are experienced in this field. Damn Louis, if he would have been late on that day six years ago, when Stan decided to try out real drugs instead of weed. Fucking idiots they are. Sam now seemed to be completely lost.  
Louis opened the doors and got the girl in the backseat. When he got into his own seat, he saw Sam running down the stairs. Next thing he knew they were driving off the park.  
“Thanks, Louis. If you need anything, I don’t know how to-”  
“Shut up.”  
Sam was always talkative, and Louis liked that before — the way he could always fill up any corner with his presence. Now it only annoyed him. Sam swallowed his words and stared ahead on the road.  
“Sorry. Thanks,” he muttered, and the rest of the way they spent in silence.  
Louis couldn’t trust Sam with carrying the girl, he didn’t seem capable of holding anything but documents at the moment. Louis threw his keys to Sam and said:  
“Lock the car and don’t forget the papers.”  
Sam only nodded, his eyes still full of fear, and Louis got the girl out of the car and carried her to the hospital.  
Several minutes of hustle and bustle later, Louis leaned against the wall and exhaled.  
“I gotta go, will you sort it out by yourself?” he looked at Sam. The latter snapped his head up and stared at Louis. He looked pitiful, he really did. But Louis didn’t feel a thing.  
“Yeah. Yes, of course. Thank you,” he reached his hand out. Louis frowned but shook it nonetheless.  
“Keys.”  
“Oh, shit, yeah. Here you go,” he gave him the keys. “Thanks again.”  
“Good luck,” Louis said, without looking back.  
“Take care. I’m so sorry, Lou!” the last word used to cause goosebumps down his spine, but now it just hang in the air between them. Louis nodded, still not turning back, and shut the hospital’s door.  
Half an hour later he sat at his table once again, as if nothing happened. As if there was no text, or the noisy flat, or the cold hospital or even the road home. Suddenly Louis realized something that made his heart skip a beat. He did not feel anything. Any-thing. He wasn’t jealous of the girl, he didn’t feel anything towards Sam. Louis took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. In the mayhem of the last hour emotions weren’t the thing he expected to have. So he waited for them now. Waited for offence, unfairness, anything. But nothing came. He wasn’t even interested what’d happen to Sam and that girl. They as if weren’t real. As if he dreamed them. He felt like somebody has just taken of a hella huge backpack off his back.  
He heard the door lock click, and felt as if somebody had just overturned a cup of warm tea inside. Harry. Harry was quite real.  
“Thumbelina?”  
“Yes?” Louis shouted back and grabbed the first book he saw.  
***  
Harry was coming back from an exhibition, when he saw a little poetry book, and he decided to give it a go. He entered the store, and those stupid little bells rang above him. He searched for the book for several minutes on his own, but wasn’t particularly successful. He surrendered and came up to the girl behind the counter.  
“Emm,” he coughed, “I’m sorry, could you tell me where the poetry book from the shop window is?”  
The girl looked up and smiled at him. She put aside the book she was packing and got up.  
“Of course, let’s go,” she went deeper into the store and Harry followed suit. She was young, with short dark wavy hair, which she tied into a low ponytail. She was quite pretty, and her clothes looked so autumn-cozy - she sported a long brown skirt and a mustard sweater. She stopped soon, took a book and handed it to Harry. “Here you go. Anything else?” she smiled. Harry shook his head, trying to get rid of annoying thoughts.  
“Emm,” he looked down and the tiniest hopes he had fell down - the girl was married. Harry smiled at his own naivety. “Not really. I came just for that,” he raised the book up. “Where can I pay?”  
“Just by the entrance,” she smiled again and left.  
Harry sighed and looked through the contents. A few minutes later he was heading out the door, zipping up his bag.  
He entered the flat and called:   
“Thumbelina?”  
“Yes?” he heard a muffled voice from the bedroom.  
“Do you wanna eat?”  
“No, I ordered pizza. Have a day off, Curly,” Louis came into the corridor and leaned against the wall with his shoulder. He held a book, which was such a contrast to the tattoo of “28” on his knuckles. “I left you some, if you are hungry.”  
“I thought you were trying to lose weight?” Harry squinted his eyes at him. Louis just rolled his.  
“If you don’t want it, just say the word,” he shrugged and turned away to go to his room. “It is on the kitchen table, by the way”, Harry could literally feel the smirk in his voice.  
“Thanks, mum.”  
“You are always welcome, Curly.”  
Harry smiled and went into the kitchen in his shoes, grabbed the pizza box and went back outside. He headed to the park nearby. It wasn’t raining, and Harry decided to read his new book under the big park trees. The sun wasn’t far above the horizon at that point, but he still had about two hours of light left.  
He dropped onto the bench in the depth of the thick trees and put his pizza beside. When he reached for his book though, his phone buzzed. Harry checked the screen and raised his eyebrows. Louis texted him. Did he forget anything? After all, they never texted each other. Well, with the exception of that one text that Louis sent when Harry was moving in.  
“Where did you run off to, Curly?”  
“Miss me, mum?”  
“Hey! At least daddy. I’m bored, Curly. When are you coming back? Where are you even?”  
“In the park, wanted to read some. Come, I’ll introduce you to poetry. xx”  
“You’ve got the pizza?”  
“Yep”  
“Count me in”  
Harry felt his lips stretching in a smile. He put his phone away into his pocket and opened his book. Vainly trying to focus, he kept reading the first line. He couldn’t bring himself to concentrate on the poem. He just had to wait for Louis, then. And no, of course he wasn’t thinking about the fact that he would spend his evening with Louis in the park with pizza. And didn’t look like a date, right?  
Few minutes after he noticed Louis, who was holding his own book and something else. Thermos? He’d changed into jeans and a tee, and put his jacket on top. To be quite honest, he looked like he’d just stolen the book. Or the thermos.  
“Good here, innit?” he said, plopping himself down beside Harry.  
“Yep,” he just answered. “Tea?” he nodded at louis’ thermos.  
“And chocolate,” Louis winked and smiled. “But first, pizza.”  
“No diet today, eh?” Harry smiled and handed him the box.  
“Just today,” he gave Harry a piece and took one for himself. “What are you reading?”  
“Oh, this, just bought it today,” damn it Harry, you wanted to read today. Louis nodded and for a few minutes they just munched on their pizza. Harry felt strangely awkward.  
“How was your day? Some more pizza?” louis broke the silence and Harry nodded. Louis gave him another piece.  
“Well, the exhibition was okay,” he shrugged. “Then I went for a walk and popped into the bookstore.” Harry opened his book. “Do you mind if I read a bit?”  
“Curly, when I’m eating pizza, you can do whatever your heart desires.”  
“Dully noted,” smiled Harry. He started to read, and louis just stared into the distance, listening. They sat like that a couple of hours, till the sun went completely down and Harry couldn’t make out a word. When the twilight started enveloping them, Louis looked at Harry. The latter felt the stare and raised his head.  
“Alright?”  
“You can’t see nothing, anyway.” Louis nodded at Harry’s book, which he was reading from the memory now. Harry shur the book and looked at him. “Don’t make such a face, Curly,” Louis smiled and the crease between Harry’s brows disappeared.   
“Wanna go home?” Harry hoped there wasn’t much disappointment in his voice.  
“I don’t wanna,” Louis said. “Truth or dare, Curly?”   
“Dare,” Harry immediately felt relief, which got replaced by anticipation.  
“Hmm,” Louis imitated deep thought, tapping his chin with his finger. He looked up. “Well. Make my picture your wallpaper on the phone,” he said unexpectedly and Harry looked at him, surprised.  
“Why so?”  
“You chose the dare yourself,” Louis shrugged. Harry frowned and got his phone out of the pocket.  
“And for how long?” Harry smiled. The idea was so silly that it was funny.  
“However long you wish to have it,” Louis comically raised one eyebrow and started searching for his Facebook profile on Harry’s phone. “What if you like it so much you decide to keep it for good?”  
Harry snorted. Louis turned the phone towards him, and on the lock screen Harry saw a smiling Louis, as always biting his lips and looking at his own nose. Harry laughed.  
“That’s not all,” he shook his finger and gave the phone for Harry to unlock. When he did, he saw a surprisingly serious Louis, who was showing his middle finger to the camera.  
“What if the students see it? You have such pics on your profile page?”  
“It’s a secret page,” he whispered, as if to a spy, and winked at Harry. Harry smiled widely and giggled, like a little girl. “And just don’t show that to students. I understand you have many pretty ones, but, as a wise Louis Tomlinson said, “any affairs with the students are prohibited,”” he raised his finger, as if he just said a very clever thing.  
“Idiot,” murmured Harry and took his phone from Louis. He looked at the screen once more and put it in his coat pocket. “Truth or dare, Thumbelina?”  
“Dare,” Louis’ eyes lit up.  
“Hmm,” Harry mimicked Louis’ behavior step in step. “Well. Make my picture your wallpaper on the phone.”  
“How original!”  
“Shut up, Thumbelina.”  
“Here you go, Curly,” it seemed Louis was even pleased. Harry didn’t want to think why it was so much fun. He just took the phone and gave it back after a few minutes.  
“Don’t thank me, by the way.”  
Louis smiled and looked down at his screen. From the lock screen a smiling Harry was looking, in all his thirty-two, giving him a thumb-up. On the picture his hair was shorter - so it must’ve been taken a few years ago.  
“You wore a bandana?” Louis asked, typing in his password. “Well, who am I aski-”  
Louis stopped and stared at the screen, with his mouth still open.  
“Curly!” He looked at him, as if accusingly, but his eyes were lit up. Harry just smiled and shrugged.  
“Don’t thank me.”  
nobody was actually looking at him from the screen, at least because there was no face there. It was the picture of Harry’s torso, and his butterfly tattoo. A guy who made the tattoo took the picture. He always like his butterfly, and the picture itself was rather cool in that black-n-white edit.  
“Who would have thought,” Louis shook his head and locked the phone, putting it in his jean pocket. He leaned back and looked up in the sky once again. Harry didn’t want to go, so he did the same. They sat there, both looking up and enjoying the sounds of the distant city. After quite some time he looked at Louis again. The latter kept looking at the sky, and, noticing Harry’s stare, he said:  
“Blackberry ice cream.”  
“Sorry?” Harry frowned and looked up again. The sky was absolutely clear, and he could distinguish the beads of stars.  
“The sky. Looks like the blackberry ice cream,” simply said Louis. Perhaps, it was the very first time Harry saw Louis the professor. He took a deep breath. His lips stretched in a smile.  
“With the white chocolate chips.”  
“The stars,” Louis agreed.  
Harry forgot the girl from the bookstore, about the exhibition, about the poems. All Harry knew at that moment was that he felt good. The taste of chocolate was still on his lips, the sky was still above him, and Louis was beside him. Louis, who liked sports clothing, pizza, tattoos and the classics of the 20th century.  
***  
Louis went out into the school yard between the east and the west wings, put up his hood and took out a cigarette. When he entered the smoking area, he noticed Zayn’s skinny figure.  
“Alright?” he asked, coming up to him. They stood shoulder to shoulder, looking at the students who were running into the university. Most of them were hiding behind their umbrellas or the collars of their coats.  
“Fine. What’s up?” Zayn clapped his back jeans pocket and took out a lighter.  
“Nothing special”, Louis shrugged.  
“Noone special, you meant?”, he smiled crookedly, without even looking at Louis. The latter rolled his eyes and inhaled on his cigarette.  
“Saw Sam the other day, by the way.”  
“What the hell?”  
“His girlfriend, she is a drug-addict. Was getting her to the hospital, ‘cos he nearly pissed himself there.”  
“Drug-addict? As in-”  
“Needle, yeah. Heroin or some other shit. Syringes were all over there.”  
“Damn. Heard anything from them? How is she?”  
“I guess just in hospital, going through therapy. Like Stan then.”  
“That’s why he asked you?”  
“Think so. I don’t think he has many people who have experience in it, you know,” Louis shrugged.  
“Tommo? You okay?”  
“Yes. Was surprised meself. I just wanted to be done with that as soon as possible and forget all that shit.”  
“Felt nothing?”  
“Nope. Nothing. As in at all.”  
“That’s cool, yeah?”  
“I guess,” he smiled and glanced at Zayn. The latter exhaled on relief.  
“So you and Harry?”  
Louis bit his lips and shook his head, throwing off the ashes from his cigarette.  
“Tommo.”  
“I don’t know, Z. Harry he is- he is straight, you know. So we are just roommies.”  
“You sure?”  
Louis just nodded and stared at his sneakers.  
“How is Gigi?” he switched the topic. He glanced at Zayn again, but he only shook his head.  
“Still fine”, he smiled. “She sent her CVs to few places, wants to be half-time journalist.”  
“Cool. And when are they gonna reply?”  
“By the end of the week.”  
“Cool.”  
“Tommo?”  
“Mmm?”  
“I think Harry likes you.”  
Louis snapped his head up and frowned.  
“Why would you think so?”  
“I just do,” he shrugged. He threw his cig under his feet and stepped on it. “Remember how long I doubted whether to ask Gi out or no?” Louis shook his head and looked up at Zayn. The latter put his hand on Louis’ shoulder, his eyes were full of fire. “Two months, man. And I couldn’t figure out whether she likes me or no. I lost two freaking months with her. Until you try it you won’t know, mate. Don’t think it too much, Tommo. Your life doesn’t end on Sam, yeah?” Zayn said quietly, gently squeezing his shoulder.  
“Screw you, Malik”, Louis smiled a tiny smile and hit Zayn with his knee.  
“Love ya, Tommo.”  
“Ge’ out,” Louis clapped him on the hip and looked at him running to the university. Zayn stooped, pulling his jacket over his head, and sped up, trying to run away from the rain. Louis stood there alone and turned to the window. Now he could see only a small garden which separated him from the university. All the students must have already been inside, the class started in a few minutes. Rain was pouring with diagonal drops, the cold wind kept swirling around and raising a whistle and old leafs. Louis inhaled on his cig one last time and threw it away. Damn Harry with all his curls, poems and exhibitions.


	5. chapter 5

The trees sped by as if on their own wheels. The heart was beating somewhere up in the throat. Louis’ face was so hot, and the body sticky with sweat. The wind was swirling along his naked calfs, what was both pleasant and freezing on a red hot skin. His legs started to slow down until he finally stopped completely. Louis swallowed the air greedily, with his hands on his knees. The throat felt as though torn apart by the cold air, but he didn’t mind.  
He leaned against the nearest tree, took another deep breath and slowly slid down to the ground. Louis looked up and stared at the grey sky for a few minutes. The rain promised to start any minute, and he thought that it would be nice to go home right now. To curl up in an armchair and read a book with a good old cuppa. But here and now felt so good. The distant murmur of the passers-by, the hum of the cars just somewhere there calmed him down. Up in the trees the birds were singing. Louis brought a bottle up to his lips and took a few gulps of water. He poured the rest onto the palm of his hand and ran it across his face. A couple of drops slided down his neck, but he didn’t care. After another minute or so he managed to get up, squeezing an empty bottle. He went up to the nearest trash bin and threw it in there. He heard a noise and turned around. He missed it. Louis sighed and took a few steps back. He threw the bottle once again, this time successfully. He straightened up one more time and saw a little notice in front of him. He reached out and tore it away. Singing classes. Some memories from the school years raced through his mind and Louis suddenly felt overwhelmed by nostalgia. Maybe it was worth trying? He smiled a bit, folded the notice and tucked it into his pocket.  
Louis entered the flat and plunged into absolutely different atmosphere. He couldn’t get used to the thought that his flat was… cosy? He could hear a quiet tune from the kitchen, clanking of the crockery and the running water. Louis didn’t even have to enter the kitchen to mentally see Harry, cooking their dinner and humming a song to himself. His nostrils got kissed by a pleasant smell of home food, to which it was so easy to get used to.  
“Curly, I’m home!”  
“You’ve got five mins for a shower till it’s ready!”

Louis smiled to himself and took off his trainers. He got into his room, got out of his smelly sweaty clothing, and, having taken the clean clothes from the closet, went into the shower. He couldn’t guarantee that he was done in five minutes, but more than two songs have passed. He got out from the shower, patting his hair with his towel, and nearly jumped when he saw a figure beside his desk.  
“Wanted to rub me back?”  
“I was calling you, but you wouldn’t come, so I decided to come check on you,” Harry frowned, and raised his eyes to look at Louis. The latter looked closer and spotted the notice in Harry’s hands. It must have fallen out when he was undressing. And Harry must have found it. “Singing classes, mm?”  
“I used to sing before,” Louis shrugged and threw the towel over the back of his chair. “Thought I’d try again.”  
“Let’s go eat, Thumbelina,” Harry gave him a small smile and put the notice on the table. Louis frowned but followed him.  
***  
“Hey, Lou?” Harry looked at him and away from the laptop screen.  
“Curly?” Louis’ glasses slided down his nose, and he pushed them back into place. He put away the assignments he’d been checking all evening, took his cup and made a sip.  
“I’ve managed to find some better schools. With the singing classes,” he specified. Harry really hoped his cheeks hadn’t got red yet.  
“Oi-oi,” only said Louis. Harry felt a relief, smiled and raised his eyebrows. “You’ve been searching for a school for me?”  
“Well, yeah. To be honest, I’d like to try it meself. I did some music before too, but then kinda stopped.”  
“Really?”  
“Yep. Had our own band, proper music, you know.”  
Louis just raised his eyebrows and nodded.  
“If you don’t mind my company,” Harry hasted to add.  
“What? No, of course not. I’ve just never even thought you sing. What did you dig up?” Louis moved closer to Harry, leaning his back against the sofa.  
“Here,” Harry turned the laptop towards him, a web-page opened. “This one is half an hour away on foot, a few minutes on car. And reviews are pretty positive. We could go right after the uni, or later, after your jog.”  
“Or instead.”  
“Hey-y-y, Thumbelina!”  
“Alright, alright, I’m joking. When’s the dinner, by the way?”  
Harry shook his head and looked at his phone screen.  
“I think we can start cooking. I need help in cutting veggies.”  
“Who doubted.”  
Louis pushed his shoulder playfully, and Harry fell on his side. Louis got up, but Harry hit him lightly behind his knees, so that Louis fell too, but on the sofa. Laughter bubbled up from his belly, and Louis legitimately giggled. He shook his head once again, giving Harry a hand.  
***  
“Morning,” Louis’ voice was husky with sleep.  
“Good morning,” answered Harry in the same voice.  
Louis came up to the kettle, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He poured some water in and put it to boil. There was that typical autumn and winter-y mood in the room; at the time when it was getting darker and darker in the mornings, and getting up got harder each day. Louis loved the spring better, when everything blossomed, and with each morning he wanted to get out of bed more and more. But he really didn’t mind seeing barely awake Harry, in a rumpled shirt and a pair of shorts, bare feet on the cold tiles, hair, flattened on one side, and the print of the pillow on his right cheek. Even if it was dark outside. Louis smiled to himself and threw a tea bag into the cup.  
“How do you wake up without coffee, Curly?”  
Harry only shrugged and turned back to the porridge on the stove. The water started to boil, so Louis poured it into Harry’s cup with tea, and placed it on the table. The coffee machine ringed that his coffee was ready, and another steaming cup appeared on the table soon after. Harry took out two bowls from the cupboard and plated their porridge. Louis took out the milk and fruits from the fridge. They sat down and Louis said, as he usually did,  
“Bon appetit, Curly.”  
“Bon appetit,” Harry poured a bit of milk into his tea and Louis’ coffee, and put the bottle on the edge of the table. “We are going today, yeah?”  
“Yep,” Louis finally made a sip of his coffee, and his head started working properly. “My classes end at two, so we could go right after. You finish by one?”  
“Yep, I’ll wait for you then, and we’ll go.”  
“Okay. Do we have to bring anything?”  
“Nah, I’ve already registered us both. We are in one group. Just take your passport, ‘coz they’ll be making an id-card. And we’ll start with the second class — the classes started last week.”  
“Cool. Have anything interesting today?”  
“Impressionism,” Harry shrugged.  
“Mmm, you are so clear, don’t ever bother explaining.”  
“Well, I have two presentations on the late impressionism with my seniors. They had to pick up any artist they liked from there and find a connection with post-impressionism.”  
“You first covered post- and then the actual impressionism?” Louis asked, confused.  
“Nope, why. I’ve just given them some extras on the post- and they had to draw connections on their own. This way they’ll already come with some background to the following classes,” Harry shrugged and made a sip. “And would better understand what I’d tell them.”  
“Didn’t know you were so cruel.”  
“Why? They love the subject. That’s their major, after all.”  
“Poor blokes,” Louis shook his head, but the lips were stretched out in a smile. “It’s not their fault their professor is crazy on the post impressionism.”  
“I’ll look at you when you start the 20th century, aha.”  
“Oi! At least I don’t make them read extra stuff. That’s so freaking boring, why do that?”  
“Until you learn it yourself, there’ll be nothing here,” Harry tapped his temple with his pointing finger.  
“Oi, oi, oi, look at me, I’m Harry Styles, who talks super slowly and makes his students do extra work,” Louis mimicked his slow speech.  
“I don’t speak that slowly, hey!” Harry frowned and flicked Louis’ shoulder.  
“I don’t speak that slowly-y-y, a-a-a, Ha-a-ary-y-y,” Louis laughed and almost upset his coffee cup, when Harry started tickling him. “Please, st-o-o-o-op, I was joking. Tea!”  
Harry stopped and turned around — his mug was about to fall off the table.  
“You lucky, Thumbelina.”  
“You are twenty four, for goodness sake,” Louis kept giggling while sipping his coffee.  
“And you are twenty five.”  
“Twenty six.”  
“All the more!”  
“Hey, I have six siblings, I gotta maintain the image, you know.”  
“And what now, I’ll have to wear ties, drink your disgusting coffee and not eat hawaiian pizza?” Harry raised his eyebrows, got up and gathered their plates.  
“Hey, don’t you have a go at pizza.”  
“Ha,” Harry turned to Louis, who was already by his side near the sink, holding a towel and ready to wipe the plates.  
“What, ‘ha’?”  
“At least we agree on something.”  
Louis only rolled his eyes and showed Harry his tongue. Harry gave him the first bowl and splashed some water onto him.  
“Hey! Not fair, I wasn’t even re- Oi! Shtup!” Louis laughed once again, turning away from the water.  
“Okay, okay, you can turn now.”  
“Sure?”  
“Sure.”  
Louis squinched his eyes and turned, eyes still closed. There was no new drops in his face, so he carefully opened one eye. Harry was washing the dishes once again, and, seeing that Louis was looking at him, turned.  
“What?”  
“Nothing.”  
Harry smiled and after a second Louis got a second portion of water right into his face.  
“Harry Styles, for the sake of the hippogryphs!” he heard Harry laugh, and a few moments later he said,  
“Sorry, mister T. I won’t do it again. Here is your bowl, please.”  
Louis punched Harry on the thigh with his knee and grumbled,  
“Mister T.”  
Harry only laughed silently, turned off the water and placed the cups alongside the bowls. Louis wiped them as well, and hanged the towel under the cupboard. They got out of the kitchen, and soon after Louis closed the doors to his room. He grabbed the clean clothes and went into the shower. Having washed and dressed up, he got back into the corridor, but something was missing. He forgot his bag. Damn it. He got back, threw the needed textbooks into his bag, looked at himself in the mirror one last time, fixed his hair and got out once again. Harry went out of the kitchen with two containers in his hand.  
“Welcome,” he handed one to Louis.  
“Thanks, Curly,” Louis put his into the bag and headed to the door.  
“We gotta pop into the store on the way home, we ran out of fruit and meat, okay?”  
“Whatever you say, honey.”  
“Shut up, Tomlinson. We’ve not been married for that long.”  
Louis giggled silently.  
***  
“Hi, Curly.”  
Louis ran up to his car and quickly unlocked it. Harry pushed off from the side door and got into his seat.  
“We ain’t late yet, are we?”  
“No, there’s still twenty minutes till the class, we good.”  
“And do they make our cards before or after the class?”  
“I think after, maybe we won’t like it, you know.”  
“Makes sense,” Louis made a turn and they got onto the road. Harry got emerged into something on his phone and for a few minutes they both kept quiet.  
“Is it the fangirls pestering?” Louis nodded at Harry’s screen, who kept texting somebody. Louis tried to ignore the long forgotten feeling inside.  
“Almost. Robin’s birthday is coming up, so mom is looking for what to get him.”  
“And when is it?”  
“In two weeks, we’ll celebrate next Saturday. I think I’ll go like on Friday and help them out with the preparation.”  
“To Holmes-Chapel?”  
“Yep.”  
“Leaving me alone,” Louis smiled crookedly.  
“Sure you’ll stand a couple days without me,” Harry smiled. “Be right back on Sunday.”  
“Guess I’ll just get tight with Cola, and chew on crisps then.”  
“Quite romantic you are.”  
“Thanks.”  
“No problem.”  
***  
“You sing so good, Harold. Never fail to surprise me.”  
“Thank you, mister T,” Harry bowed down and got into his seat. Louis shut the door behind him and ran around the car to his own. When he got in, Harry added, “You have a pretty voice, Thumbelina. Very peculiar, but very nice. I like it.”  
“Thanks. To be honest, I guess I’d be better off in a band, ‘coz it’s hard to go solo with this one.”  
“Did you have a band at school then?”  
“Aha. We even won something.”  
“Something? I remember all mine by heart.”  
“Well,” Louis shrugged. “I guess I have many more than you.” Harry rolled his eyes dramatically. “Joking. Me mom has them all, at home, I’m just not good at names. Long ago.”  
“Of course, because somebody is twenty fi-six.”  
“‘Fi-six’? And I live with this person,” Louis shook his head.  
“Me deepest apologies. Will do that no more,” Louis saw out of the corner of his eye that Harry put his hand onto his heart.  
“You are fi-six yourself, yeah?”  
Harry pinched his shoulder and Lous giggled.  
“Fo-three.”  
A couple minutes later they got out of the car in front of a supermarket. Louis took a shopping cart by the entrance and Harry followed him inside.  
“What do we have to buy again?”  
“Frozen veg, fresh veggies and fruit, water, chicke-”  
“Alright, alright, you lead, Mr. Shopping List.”  
Harry clicked his tongue and pushed Louis’ hip with his own.  
“Oh-h, Curly, look! The chocolate is on sale!”  
“We don’t do chocolate, Lou.”  
“Ha-a-rry,” almost wailed Louis.  
“Fruit, veg, water, chicken breasts.”  
“Killjoy,” murmered Louis, as if continuing the list.  
Harry smiled and shook his head.  
“You can take dark chocolate and on Saturday morning I’ll make brownies for you. Sounds good?”  
“Promise?”  
“Promise.”  
“Curly, you are the best!” Louis cried, already on his way to the chocolate section. A lady of about fifty, in a long coat and a beret, looked at him, puzzled. Harry just shrugged. She didn’t smile and looked away, and Harry forgot all about her in a matter of seconds, when Louis ran up to him with hands full of chocolate.  
“If I recall correctly, we talked about one regular bar,” Harry crossed his arms.  
“Wanna invite the boys over?”  
“For a brownie?”  
Louis just smiled and tilted his head.  
“Thumbelina,” Harry took the two big bars from Louis, which nobody knows how he managed to carry with his delicate hands, and put one into their cart and the other back onto the counter. Louis followed the chocolate with his sad eyes, sighed, and they moved forward. “You are such a child.”  
“Thanks, I tried.”  
“No really, is it you who teaches literature, and whose shelves are all drowning in books?”  
“Are you the Harry Styles who has pink flamingo pants, braids his hair and sings?”  
“Whatever,” Harry passed Louis and headed towards the freezer with the vegetables.  
***  
“Brownies only for Saturday?” Louis locked the door behind them and dropped the bags onto the floor.  
“Yep. In the morning,” Harry took Louis jacket and hang it in the closet.  
Louis sighed.  
“O-oi,” he took the bags again and headed for the kitchen. “Who can physically eat that many veggies?”  
Harry smiled to himself and followed Louis into the kitchen with more plastic bags still.  
“You okay with pasta for dinner?”  
“Oh, Harold. Carbs so late at night?”  
“There’ll be plenty of vegg, I promise,” Harry shut the freezer, now full of frozen vegetables and meat. Louis came up to the sink to wash his hands.  
“Could you cut the veggies, while I go change?” Harry asked, when Louis came back. He had already put the pan with oil on the stove and was drying his hands with a towel. Louis nodded and fixed his tee. Harry came back a minute later in his usual black shorts, high black socks with green polka dots and a very old tee.  
“Oh-kay,” he rubbed his hands together.  
“Vegg is almost there, Curly. By the way, how were the presentations?”  
“Excellent. I didn’t learn anything new about Van Gogh, but my kids are cool. I have that girl, Emmy, I think she really has a thing for it.”  
“Oh-h, the future of the tour-guide. Exciting.”  
“Shut up.”  
“But really, who are they gonna be with their major?” Louis sent the cut vegetables into a big bowl. Harry put their pasta into the water and took the bowl, dividing the vegetables in two.  
“Professors, like me. Tour guides. Online courses. They can draw themselves, if they wanna,” Harry threw the chicken into the pan and quickly covered it with a lid, so that the oil wouldn’t pinch them.  
“Boring.”  
“Alright, are there many potential jobs for a lit professor?”  
“How could you! A professor, or a professor. Or even professor!”  
Harry shook his head and giggled, his back on Louis. They kept silent for the next few minutes, but he kept noticing Louis’ glances.  
“Hungry?” he raised one eyebrow.  
“More and more everyday,” Louis smiled.  
“The workouts must be helping,” Harry bit his lips, so as not to laugh. He’s never flirted with men before.  
“Yep. The squats suit you right, Curly.”  
“Thanks,” now he was full on smiling, without any specific reason to. And he blushed, but Harry opted for a strong neglect of it. The rest of the cooking passed in a pleasant silence, which nobody minded. Harry was at the stove, and hummed to Louis’ songs under his breath. Louis himself was reading something off his phone.  
“Lou?”  
“Curly?”  
“Can you get the plates out? I’m almost ready.”  
“Aha,” Louis put away his phone and got up. He turned on the kettle and set their plates onto the table. Harry put their pasta in the middle of the table, and Louis made some tea.  
“So how do you like the school?” Harry asked, handing him a fork.  
“Proper nice it is. But that lady by the window I think has a thing for me?”  
“Very unexpected.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Well, people easily like you.”  
“I thought it was your profile.”  
“What profile?”  
“Mistresses.”  
“Well, first, women, second, yes, but-”  
“But?”  
“I- I always had more or less long term relationships, so I’ve never dated anybody just for sex,” Harry frowned and looked at his plate, picking at his pasta with a fork.  
“Curls,” Louis reached out and covered Harry’s wrist with his hand. “Hey,” he gently squeezed his hand and Harry’s fist relaxed a bit. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”  
“‘s fine.”  
“Curly.”  
“No, really. Sorry, I just don’t like that topic, okay?”  
“Sure, I just didn’t know. No more about it,” Louis bent down, his head almost brushing the table, so that he could see Harry’s face, and squeezed Harry’s wrist once again. “Peace?” he comically raised his eyebrows. Harry just stared back, still frowning and his mouth a thin line. Louis looked at his own nose and showed his tongue. Harry barked out a laugh.  
“Alright, alright,” he smiled.  
“Su-u-re?” Louis straightened up, but kept his hand on his wrist.  
“As ever,” Harry clapped his palm, Louis smiled and retrieved his hand.  
“So what do you think of the music teachers?”  
***  
Louis woke up in an unexpectedly silent flat. No cooking sounds from the kitchen, nobody was humming the entire discography of “The Ramones”, nobody slapped their feet against the bathroom tiles. Unexpected.  
He let his thoughts drift off to the night before. Ge gave Harry a lift to the station, and for a few minutes it took the train to come, they were discussing how Louis would survive those one and a half days alone. Harry was laughing in his deep and young rumble, while Louis kept joking about his cooking skills, and that it was most likely he’d had to invite somebody over and just order pizza. But then the train had come too quickly, and Harry turned to Louis. And he opened his arms, as if for a hug, but Louis had already reached out for a handshake. Harry just awkwardly bit his lips, shook his hand and clapped him on the shoulder, while Louis blushed, for God known reason.  
“Don’t miss me,” he said quietly and waved at Louis before showing his ticket to the lady.  
“Give my congrats, Curly,” just said Louis and waved at Harry. After a minute or so Harry waved back from his window, and Louis went away, not waiting for the train to leave.  
He didn’t know when Harry got to his family, because they haven’t phoned or texted each other ever since. Louis forgot to ask him to at the station, and now he didn’t know if Harry wanted to be texting or no. After all, all they were, were mere neighbours. And Harry must be super busy.  
Louis ran his hand down his face and sat up in his bed. The day promised to be long and boring. He glanced around his sun-lit room and stopped at the pile of unmarked assignments. When exactly did he manage to give his students that much homework?  
***  
Louis took off his glasses and scratched his shoulder. He stretched up, his fingers locked above his head. He finally finished checking the essays, and now he had to think of something to eat. The night was about to fall, and all he had had were a few biscuits. He went to the kitchen and opened the fridge, spotted three containers and frowned. He took one and looked at it closely. There was a sticker on it, with Harry’s handwriting, that read “Don’t die hungry, Thumbelina:)”. He felt as if somebody got into a pillow fight and accidentally turned off a cup full of tea inside him. His face almost cracked with how wide his smile was. There were two more containers with dinner for that day and lunch for the next. The one Louis was holding in his hands was for today’s lunch. How come Louis didn’t look into the fridge since yesterday night? Why didn’t Harry say anything? He shook his head and glanced at the clock. It was dinner time, which meant Louis got a double portion! He put the food into the microwave and went back to his bedroom to get the phone.  
“Can I eat two at once? I’ve just found them, and hadn’t had anth today but a few biscuits. Honest”  
He took a picture of his supposed lunch and the container next to it, that was for dinner today. Before thinking twice about it, he hit the send button and put the phone away. He only had had one fork of rice and chicken, when his phone buzzed. Faster, than he’ll ever admit to, Louis put away the food and snatched his phone.  
“Sure, I permit xx.” With the message there was a picture of the table full of dishes, at which Harry must have been sitting at that moment. “Are u bored over there?” another one came before Louis could think how to answer the first one.  
“R u kiddin me? I’ve marked like 23 essays”  
“U still alive?xx”  
“Barely. But i found food, so life ain’t that bad after all :)”  
“Do I take it as ‘Thanks, Harry, it is very good’?”  
“No. As ‘Thanks, Curly, it is very good’.”  
“U welcome.:) Whatcha up to today?”  
“Idk. I guess just ur food, ur sofa and the telly.”  
“Boys rn’t coming over?”  
“I want all the saturday for meself :p”  
“xD I’m I disturbing you then?”  
“Well, I can make an exception. After all, you cooked the food, so. Thanks, btw”  
“U alr thanked me, Thumbelina :) My rice n chicken were so good you can’t think straight?”  
“Oi, shut up, Curls. Btw, I hope I’m not disturbing? U must be celebrating”  
“No, evth is finished now”  
“The table was full five mins ago. How?”  
“I took the pic a couple hours ago. Now I’m climbing to me room, look” Harry sent a pic of a staircase and his bare feet. Louis swallowed.  
“I don’t need proof for every step, Curly”  
“I know you saved the pic, don’t lie to me :)”  
“It saves on its own”  
“Then u won’t delete it ;)”  
“And I live with this person”  
“What you gonna watch?”  
“Idk, my brains ain’t capable of thinking yet”  
“What about u go sleep?”  
“Well, yeah. What time you coming again? I’ll pick u up”  
“12:15. If you are busy, u don’t have to. I can get to the flat on my own”  
“Oi-oi! Waiting there for u at noon. I’ll be in white xx”  
“Whom r u trying to lie to? U don’t have anth white”  
“Socks”  
“I just legit laughed out loud”  
“Oi, shut up”  
“xx”  
“Gonna sleep?”  
“Yeah, probs. I’m tired and have to wake up early tomorrow”  
“How early?”  
“Six”  
“Sick. G’night, Curls. See ya”  
“Good night, Lou”  
Louis smiled and put the phone away. He washed the plate and went into Harry’s room. He found some random movie, or a TV-show, and curled up, already falling asleep.  
***  
Harry almost missed his station. They texted each other yesterday all evening, after which Harry fell asleep almost immediately — so tired he was. And the morning came too fast, which went by quick and messy, as if he was a Weasley getting to Hogwarts. Then he had to say goodbye to his family, which is not fun, and then he was on a train for a long, long time. He kept dozing off and falling to his right. His station was finally near, and he was already by the doors with his bag in his hands. The pictures of a Sunday London went by, and in his mind he saw yesterday’s evening. It’s been a long time without his family. Only at such moments he understood how much he’d missed them. Their dinner was full of mum’s excellent cooking, Gemma’s jokes and Robin’s laughter. Mom kept glancing at them all happily, and Harry just smiled back and winked at her. After the dinner he helped to clean up and washed the dishes, and then they all got together in the living room and talked, and talked, and talked. At some point Robin dozed off, Ann started reading some novel, Harry and Gemma were on their phones. And then Harry got Louis’ text, and smiled so widely that mom and Gemma raised their eyebrows. Louis.  
The train stopped and a few moments later the doors finally opened. Harry got out onto the platform and found himself in a crowd of strangers. He got onto his tippy toes and started looking around for Louis. And then he spotted a petite figure that was almost running towards him from the corner. Harry barked out a laugh and opened his arms, his bag on the floor beside. Louis managed to get to him through the people — all puffy eyes, messy hair, toothpaste on the chin and a pyjama top still on.  
“Hey Curls,” he said when the last person between them disappeared. Louis took one last step forward and hugged Harry. Gosh that felt good. Why did they never hug before? Harry had to bend down a bit, but he didn’t mind. Louis hugged him tightly, burying his fist into the thick fabric of his coat, and Harry fluffed up Louis’ hair even more.  
“Missed me, Thumbs?”  
“f course, Curls.”  
Nobody of them let go of the other, and Harry already lost count of how long they were standing like this, with the only sounds being Louis’ heavy breath and Harry’s low curr, when Louis pressed on his aching spine and ran the hand down, releasing some of the tension.  
“Long ride?”  
“Yep. All body is numb.”  
“Well,” Louis clapped him on the back and let go. He kept his hand on Harry’s shoulder, so Harry thought it okay to keep his on Louis’ waist. “I’ve ordered pizza, we can take it on the way home. But I didn’t make your bed,” Louis scrunched his nose, making a guilty face.  
“When did you wake up?”  
“Twenty minutes ago?” almost asked Louis and smiled. Harry raised his hand and wiped off the toothpaste off his chin.  
“Well, I see,” he fluffed his hair one more time and raised his bag.  
“Need help?” Louis now dropped his hand to Harry’s hip and they headed for the parking lot.  
“Too big for you. Don’t wanna you broken in half.”  
“Oi! I’m big!” Louis got onto his toes. Harry laughed and drew him closer by the shoulder.  
“Somebody said pizza?”  
***  
“Hey, Tommo, Harry?”  
“Yep?”  
“Mmm?” they both raised their eyes up from the papers and looked at Niall. The latter was standing near Liam, his arms crossed, and leaning against the counter with folders.  
“Fancy going out skating this Saturday? Harry’ll finally meet Liam’s girlfriend?”  
“Okay,” Harry shrugged and looked at Louis. He ran his hand through his hair and said,  
“I’ll think about it, thanks, Nialler.”  
Niall just nodded and turned back to Liam. Harry frowned. Louis kept complaining now that he couldn’t drink and clubs were a taboo, all he was left to do was telly and his students’ work. Harry tried to drag him out to some exhibitions, but he kept flipping it off. And now he had such a good opportunity and he almost refused. Harry got up and wanted to ask Louis about it, but everybody started getting ready for class.  
“Curly?” Louis almost bumped into him. “Won’t you be late for your class?”  
“You right, let’s go.”  
***  
When they were having dinner that evening, Harry took a deep breath and asked,  
“Lou?”  
“Cu-u-rls?”  
“Let’s go skating with the boys.”  
“Well, I’ll think about it, I still have lots to grade.”  
“Oh, come on. You’ll do it all on Sunday anyway. Let’s go.”  
“Go alone, why me?”  
“Really?” Harry asked, sarcastically. “I won’t go there without you.”  
“Why?”  
“Boring. Niall will be with Hailee, Zayn with Gigi and Liam with Cheryl. I’ll be a black sheep there. Plea-a-a-se, Lou.”  
“Alright, alright. Almost sounds like a date,” Louis smiled.  
“Whatever you wanna call it, mr T.”


	6. chapter 6

When Louis and Harry arrived, the rest of the boys were already there. Niall was hugging Hailee by the waist, and was telling her something, pointing at Liam, while she was giggling. Liam himself was talking on the phone, with Cheryl by his side. Harry waved at everybody, and Gigi smiled back before turning to Zayn.   
Something cringed inside Harry, and he looked at Louis. The latter was smiling and waving, hugging everybody. But Harry saw that he didn’t particularly enjoy the company of couples. He didn’t want Louis to feel lonely, so he tried to distract him.  
“Hey, Thumby,” he lightly pushed Louis with his shoulder, and the latter unglued his eyes from the floor.  
“Yeah?” he smiled a tiny smile probably at the fond nickname.  
“Do you fancy going to an exhibition with me?”  
“What’s that about?”  
“Next Saturday, there’ll be sculptures from the ancient right up our days.”  
“Not that I liked sculpture that much,” Louis ran his hand down his neck and wrinkled his nose.  
“Did you ever try though?”  
“Nope,” he said frankly. “Alright, Curls, I’ll give it a thought or two.”  
“Please do. There will be plenty of hot guys,” Harry pushed him with his shoulder once again, and Louis smiled.  
“From plaster cast.”  
“Well, not only. Marble too.”  
“Well, if only marble.”  
“Just tell me this week so that I can get us tickets, yeah?”  
“Sure,” Louis said and clapped him on the hip. Those light touches were so natural now, Harry didn’t even pay that much attention to them.   
They came inside inside and got in a queue. Louis seemed to have gotten merrier. They stood right behind Niall, and at some point the latter turned towards them.  
“Hey, Tommo, Harry, what you think of going to a caffe right after?”  
“Mmm,” Louis wrinkled his nose once again, thinking. It was obvious for Harry that he didn’t want to go and feel lonely in a big company even longer.  
“What caffe, Thumbelina? You have a jog to run and ungraded essays,” Harry said, as if indignant, trying to save the situation. Louis frowned and started,  
“But I have alr-”  
Harry pinched him, hoping it wasn’t noticed by the others. Louis stumbled and looked at Harry again. Honest to God, a few more seconds under Niall’s confused gaze, and Harry’ll blush!  
“Oh, you right! Sorry, Nialler, another time,” Louis finally turned away and tried to act at ease.  
“Alright then,” sighed Niall, but still confused. “Haz?”  
“Sorry, I think I’ll keep Thumbelina company.”  
“Will you stop calling me this?” hushed Louis, and Niall laughed. Niall’s turn came up and he turned away, shaking his head.  
“What’d you mean, Thumbelina?” Harry took his skates and moved to the side, letting Louis come up to the lady.  
“Curly, Curly,” he shook his head and the lady asked,  
“Beg your pardon?”  
Harry laughed and sat down on the bench to change. Louis dropped right beside him, and kept shoving him with his knee. Very adult-like, one has to admit.  
“Don’t you sulk, Thumby,” Harry said quietly.  
“Curls, don’t call me that in front of others, okay? Please,” Harry could have sworn Louis could turn into a small boy in a matter of seconds.  
“Alright,” Harry closed his eyes and placed his hand onto his heart, as if taking an oath.  
“Idiot.”  
“Thumbelina.”  
Harry felt a push into his shoulder and opened his eyes, laughing.  
“Come on,” Louis dragged Harry by his hand and the latter got up.  
Frankly speaking, Harry wasn’t a fan of skates, particularly because he felt very Bamby-like, especially when he had to hobble to the skating rink. Louis, on the other hand, was really good; that’s why when approximately on step three Harry almost flew forward, he snatched at Louis’ arm. He frowned and looked at Harry.  
“Alright?”  
“May I?” Harry grasped his forearm more firmly.  
“Sure,” Louis shrugged and raised his arm up a bit, so that Harry would be more comfortable.  
“Thanks, I just- I’m not really good with coordination, you know.”  
“Cu-u-rls,” Louis laughed.  
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t laugh please, you are trembling and I can fall,” Harry was speaking only the truth. But it didn’t particularly help Louis — he started laughing even more. When they almost reached the ice, he sharply moved his arm, as if shoving Harry. The latter’s eyes flew wide open and he grabbed the walls of the rink, even though Louis was already holding him tight by the elbow.  
“Come on, I’m holding you,” he said quietly and gave him a gentle smile.  
Harry sighed and carefully placed his foot on the ice. Finally. Now that’ll get better.  
“Now I can be by meself, thanks,” he said with certainty, and gently pushed Louis’ hand away from his elbows.  
“You sure?”  
“Yep,” Harry started skating backwards, moving away from Louis, a smile on his face. “I’m not that hopele-e-e!”  
He smashed into something soft, and his legs slid forward. He practically just sat down onto the ice.  
“Hopeless,” he finished, feeling a bruise forming on his backside.  
Zayn dropped before him, and a second after Louis appeared beside him.  
“Harry, man, you okay? Sorry, I was riding backfirst, didn’t see you.”  
“Why worry so much?” Harry frowned. Louis was looking at him, alert, from behind Zayn’s back. “I’m fine, mommy,” he made a face at him. Zayn smiled and clapped him on the shoulder.  
“You are such an idiot, Curls. Come on, get up,” Louis gave him his hand and helped him stand. “Can you even skate?”  
“Of course I can,” Harry grumbled, offended. How on earth would he prove it was just wrong time wrong place?  
“Alright then, you skate only with me now.”  
“Hey! I’m an adult, you know!”  
“Shut u-up” Louis grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the centre.  
He was skating with his back froward, and didn’t stumble into anyone. Bastard. Harry’s emotions must have displayed on his face, because Louis smiled and raised his eyebrows. He stopped when they reached the centre of the rink. Harry, obviously, stopped too, because Louis was skating with him, like with a small kid.   
“Well?” Harry barely managed to not cross his arms over his chest.  
“Don’t you sulk, Curly,” Louis smiled, getting closer. He looked up at Harry, and the latter noticed just how blue Louis’ eyes were at that moment. Usually they were much more pale, but the lightning must have played the trick. Louis looked at his nose, as always, and dropped his hand lower, so that now he was holding Harry’s hand. Harry remembered his wallpaper, which he still had, and smiled.  
“Alright, alright, you win. Will you buy me a cake after?” Harry put out his lower lip and attempted his best at puppy eyes.  
“A chocolate one?”  
“Yes, please,” Harry nodded and smiled again. Louis squeezed his fingers — their hands were hidden behind Harry’s coat — and let them go. Harry raised his eyebrows in question. Louis narrowed his eyes and grabbed his wrist once again, dragging Harry along.  
There was a quick thought regarding the other boys, but it soon left Harry, when Louis started drawing little circles on his wrist with his thumb, without looking at Harry, still leading him around the rink. They must have looked funny — such a small Louis leading such a tall Harry. But he didn’t really care. Louis was something new he never met before. It felt so good being around him, Harry never had a friendship quite like that. They really did get closer in that short time that they knew each other. And Harry didn’t mind that — it was way easier to adopt to a new place.   
***  
When they entered the flat, Louis threw his keys on the table and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. Harry took off his coat and followed suit. They, just how Louis had promised, popped into a bakery and got a chocolate cake with peach jam.  
“Lou?” Harry sat down and started cutting the cake.  
“Curls?” Louis handed him his cup with steaming tea.  
“You- You felt uncomfortable around them in couples, didn’t you?”  
Louis froze with his cup halfway up to his mouth. He put it down and looked at Harry.  
“Harry, I- I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it, okay?”  
“Yeah, sorry. Sorry, didn’t wanna get nosy or anything, I’m just concerned. Sorry,” Harry dropped his gaze and put his hand into his hair. Louis only nodded and took a sip.  
“But you do know you can always rely on me, yeah?” Harry said very quickly, snapping his head back up. He exhaled and looked at Louis. The latter reached out for his cake and, to Harry’s surprise, smiled. The relief washed over him like hot tea.  
“I know, I know, Curly,” only said Louis in a soft voice. But that was enough for Harry. “Thank you,” Louis looked at him and clapped his thigh under the table, leaving his hand there for just a second too long. When he retrieved it, Harry felt an uncomfortable chill in the place where Louis’ hand had been a moment ago. He exhaled again and asked Louis about the exhibition.   
They were eating the cake and talking about everything and nothing. When they’ve finished a good fat part of it, Harry got up and gathered the plates.  
“Hey, Thumbs,” he said, putting all the crockery into the sink. “Wanna go for a walk?”  
Louis moaned, tired, and stretched — a wide yawn escaping him. So dramatic. Harry came up behind him and gently squeezed his shoulders.  
“Come o-on, Lou, it’s not even late yet,” Harry pulled a silly face and started massaging his shoulders. They were so small and delicate, that he smiled. Louis leaned back, with his head against Harry’s torso. He looked up and for a few seconds they just stared at each other, enjoying the moment, which none of them would admit later.  
“Alright,” Louis surrendered and looked forward, still leaning against Harry. “Where to?”  
“The park?”  
“Done,” he exhaled and straightened up, tearing up their contact. Harry let his hands lay on his shoulder a moment too long, before clasping them in front of him, as if planned to.  
He moved aside, giving Louis some room to go to the corridor.   
“Hey, stop hovering over there, Curls. Come on,” he said already in the corridor, not looking at Harry still. But his tone was chill and friendly, and Harry breathed out with relief.   
“You reckon it’s cold there?” he asked, bending down to get his shoes. He turned to Louis, who was looking at a very specific spot. “Hey, stop staring, Thumbs!”  
Louis shook his head and smiled, when Harry straightened up and asked,  
“Should I wear my scarf or no?”  
“Do I look anything like a weather forecast or something?”  
Harry pulled a face at him and fished out a beanie and a scarf from the closet.  
“Where’s yours?”  
“The upper shelf,” Louis yawned.  
“How come?” Harry smiled crookedly and looked at Louis, who just rolled his eyes.  
“Not everybody has ostrich’s legs, you know.”  
“Here you go,” Harry giggled and handed Louis his hat and scarf. He pushed the door and got out to the staircase.  
When they walked out of the building, Harry huddled up. He pulled his beanie down his curls, to hide his ears, and wrapped the scarf as tightly as he could. He jumped from the last step and looked back at Louis. The latter was standing half way down the staircase, looking at his phone screen and trying to fix his fringe, which was sneaking from under his hat.  
“Thumbs, whom are you trying for, huh?” Harry asked quite loudly, and the two guys that were walking past them at that moment exchanged glances. Harry ignored them. “I’m your “other” today, come on down.”  
Louis looked at him, and Harry saw how close he was to rolling his eyes. Harry smiled and climbed the stairs back up, his hands in his pockets. When he had reached Louis, he took off both their hats. He put his own onto Louis’ head, taking out some of the fringe.  
“Better?” he asked, nodding at his phone. Louis took a glance at himself on the screen and nodded.  
“Thanks, Styles.”  
“Very funny,” Harry shoved his shoulder and started down the stairs. He pulled Louis’ hat further down to cover his ears, and fixed his scarf. He turned to look at Louis, who was now walking right beside him. Good.  
They were silent all the way to the park, until Louis said, very quietly,  
“Thanks.”  
“For what?” Harry asked, confused.  
“Well, for dragging me out today, and being there with me. I do feel uneasy around them all, when they are in couples,” Louis bit his lips and looked at Harry.  
“Oi,” Harry was a bit lost. “Welcome?”  
“You asking?” Louis smiled.  
“I mean, you can rely on me. I’m here whenever, yeah? And it is not a burden to be your puppy,” Harry finally found the right words and complemented himself, when Louis smiled even wider now, relief on his face. He reached out and grabbed Harry’s fingers gently. He squeezed them and let go.  
The sun was slowly going down and below the horizon, caressing their skin with the last rays. Not that it was particularly warming them, thought Harry, but it was pleasant anyway. They wandered about the park, talking and remembering the day when they got each other’s pictures as wallpapers. It was not that long ago, only a few weeks, but Harry felt that they got a lot closer in the meantime. Every conversation brought something unique into the way they looked at each other, trusted each other more and more, finding new topics to discuss every time. Their friendship was so, there was no other word for it, easy. Even despite Louis’ condition, which wasn’t at all okay, with all his alcohol-related problems. But Harry liked the thought that it was all going away. Gradually, but surely. At least Louis smiled more now, and sincerely so, opened up easier and trusted Harry more. Good.  
They walked long after the sun had come down. The trees in the park were decorated with delicate lights, showing them their path. On that Saturday evening there were many couples walking there, but Louis looked pretty relaxed with Harry by his side. Maybe they looked like a couple themselves, but Harry caught himself thinking, for the second time that day, that he didn’t care. It just felt good, and he couldn’t care less about all the why’s.  
They came to a halt at the entrance of the park several hours later, and Harry offered,  
“Want some tea?”  
“Sounds good,” Louis nodded and snuggled further up in his jacket.  
A thought to hug him raced through Harry’s mind — it was cold, after all. Even his own ears and nose froze already, but he decided that neither him nor Louis would really understand such a gesture. On the other hand, it all felt too good to just leave for home. So they got out of the park and went down the street, looking for a coffee shop. They finally spotted one and got in. Harry sent Louis to take a table, and stood in a queue himself. When only two people were left before Harry, Louis came up to him.  
“Hey, Curls, somebody called you,” he handed Harry his phone, and the person before Harry turned, frowning.  
“Faggots,” was the only thing he said. Harry’s internal kitten hissed and let out his claws. He raised his head and looked at where the sound came from. It was an absolutely ordinary looking man, in his forties with dark hair and a girl that was practically hanging off of him. The hand in the pocket got into a fist, and Harry bit his tongue to calm himself down. He took a deep breath and felt Louis’ gentle hand on his shoulder.  
“I’m fine, Thumbs,” Harry put a special emphasis on the last word, looking right in the eye of the man. The latter cringed and turned away, shaking his head. Harry inhaled and exhaled once again, right on the back of the man’s head. Unfortunately for him, Harry was a head taller. Harry forgot about the phone, the order, everything he could think about at the moment was how to contain himself and not-  
“Curly,” he heard in a quiet voice just by his ear. Harry dropped his head and closed his eyes. “Thanks,” Louis’ hand got into his pocket and carefully squeezed his fist whatever time again it was. Harry relaxed his hand, and Louis enfolded his fingers with his own hand. Harry felt the anger leaving him with each breath. Louis was more important than that dickhead. “How about you go to the table and I fetch the tea?” Their turn was coming up, but Harry didn’t want to leave Louis alone.  
“Maybe we’d better take it on the go and chill in the park or something?”  
“Alright,” Louis nodded. “I’ll go grab out stuff then.”  
They got out of the coffee shop soon after — Louis was holding two plastic cups and Harry was muffling himself up in the scarf. The man’s words hang between them, invisible. Awkward.  
“Curls?”  
“Mmm?” Harry took his tea from Louis’ hands.  
“Thanks for not losing your temper with that- emm-” Louis ran his hand down his neck, his head down.  
“Welcome?” Harry smiled faintly and looked at Louis. The latter raised his head and the corners of his mouth flew up.  
“Asking again?”  
Harry shrugged. He took his tea into his left hand, and hugged Louis by the shoulders with his right, snuggling him closer still. Louis turned around to see whether the man was walking behind them, but Harry only cuddled him closer, bent down a little and whispered,  
“Don’t even think about it.”  
Louis reached and pinched his stomach. He got goosebumps because of Harry’s breath on his neck a few seconds before, so he pressed closer himself. Warm.  
They entered the flat, empty cups in their hands. Harry took Louis’ from him and put one into the other to throw them away later. They got out of their coats and Louis yawned widely.  
“Tea?” he asked, nodding at the kitchen.  
“Go sleep, Thumbs,” Harry smiled and took the cups. “I’ll clean up the kitchen.”  
“Really? It’s okay if I-?”  
“Absolutely. Go get some sleep, we’ve walked plenty today.”  
“Thanks, Curly, you are the best,” he went for a hug, but Harry had already turned toward the kitchen, and his hands were busy with the cups. “See you tomorrow, yeah,” he said, running his hand through his hair so as to somehow disguise his awkward gesture.  
“Good night, Thumbs,” Harry smiled and waved at him with the cups. God damn them.  
“G’night, Curly.”  
Louis went away into his room and Harry got into the kitchen. He quickly washed their dishes from before, put the food into the fridge and wiped the table clean. A few minutes later he was already sitting on his sofa and undressing. The thoughts about how fast everything changed in the last few months kept buzzing him.  
After his graduation he worked in the same university, because he was lucky enough they had a vacant place there. Gemma insisted he look for a bigger one, or at least in another city. But the problem was, Harry had zero teaching experience whatsoever, so the other universities weren’t that eager to hire him. Finally, last year he was offered to go for a semester either to Germany or to London. He wasn’t that good at German, so he opted to stay inside the country. And he haven’t regretted it so far.   
Living in London was interesting — so much more places to go to. But he had to come back home quite soon anyway, now for good. Leave his students, the boys, freaking Louis. Something shrinked inside his chest. He won’t think about it.  
Maybe it only seemed like that, but he thought his students liked him. Very few skipped lectures, and many participated in discussions, which didn’t fail to make Harry happy.  
He spent his evenings now in a company of a poems book, Louis, or an exhibition and a play. But if back home he could invite Gemma or his mom, here he went completely on his own, because nobody really was as excited about it as he was. He really hoped Louis would accept his offer and go with him, and it would be pretty helpful in distracting him from his alcohol infused depressing condition.  
Suddenly Harry’s eyes got hit by a metallic sound and the flow of swearwords from Louis.  
“Lou?” Harry sat up straight, shaking off his sleep. “You okay?”  
There was no answer, so Harry got up and ran to the kitchen, his heart beating somewhere up in his throat. On the floor by the sink was Louis himself, his teeth clenched and his hand tight around his ankle. Right beside him lay a broken glass, where they usually kept their spoons, forks and knives, which were now scattered all around Louis.   
“Hey, Lou, what happened?” Harry dropped to his knees by his side and looked at his ankle more closely. One thin trickle of blood was running down his fingers. Louis himself was breathing heavily and looking up at the ceiling. “Got cut?”  
Louis nodded, almost unnoticeable, and Harry reached to take his hand off and see the cut, but stopped himself. He needed the medicine chest first. He straighten up and rummaged up on the shelves with his hands. He opened the chest and sat on the floor beside Louis.  
“Now carefully take your hand away and let me fix the cut, alright?”  
For a few seconds Louis kept silent, and Harry wanted to ask again, but he finally opened his hand and put it on the floor.  
“Good job,” muttered Harry. He started treating to Louis’ ankle. The cut wasn’t that deep, but Louis must be afraid of blood. Up until Harry put a plaster on, he wouldn’t even glance down.  
“Thanks,” he said quietly.  
“You okay? Want some tea?”  
Louis nodded and Harry helped him up. After he got Louis to sit down, Harry packed the medicine stuff back up and put the chest into place. He put the kettle to boil and turned to Louis. Just to distract him somehow, he asked the first thing that came to his mind.  
“Thought about the exhibition?”  
“We could go, yeah,” Louis nodded and dropped his head into his hands, hiding his face from Harry. There was still some blood on his fingers, which was now on his cheek as well. Harry tore off a paper towel, wetted it and sat down in front of Louis. The latter raised his head and frowned.  
“You’ve got blood,” Harry gestured towards his own cheek, but Louis still looked like he wasn’t there. Harry raised his hand and wiped away the spot carefully. The skin under his touch was practically burning.  
“Hey, you sure you are alright?”  
“Yeah, I’m good, it’s just blood is not my cuppa, you know.”  
Harry nodded and took Louis’ hand, wiping it as well and making an effort to concentrate only on the fingers. The kettle started to boil and he startled, as if just awakened. He made two cups of tea and asked,  
“Wanna go watch a movie?”  
“Only if you put on some shorts, Curly,” Louis smiled faintly and got up, but sat down almost at once.  
“Just a second,” Harry nodded and ran into the room to get dressed and then came back. When Louis threw his arm over Harry’s shoulders for support, the latter smirked.  
“Reminds me of something.”  
To his surprise and relief Louis smiled back. Harry breathed out.  
“A helpless Lou on Harry’s neck once again,” even Louis’ jokes were delicate, though Harry.  
“Come on, helpless Lou. Fall down,” Harry’s voice was gentle and he bent down towards the sofa, letting Louis slide down. Louis leaned back, one leg up in the air. “What d’you wanna watch?” Harry moved their little table over, so that Louis could rest his leg there. It looked like he had also hit himself, because his leg seemed to hurt from the touch.  
“I don’t kno-o-ow,” Louis yawned and sipped his tea. “Under the TV, on those shelves, I have like old DVD-s, maybe something from them.”  
“Dirty gay porn?”  
Louis raised one eyebrow and Harry raised his hands.  
“Just kidding. Okay, what do we- Oh! “1+1”! Alright with you?”  
“Sure,” Louis shrugged.  
“They even have a black hottie.”  
“Shut up, will ya,” Louis grumbled, not unkindly.  
Harry sat down beside him and looked at the screen. He didn’t know whether to ask about his ankle or not — because Louis could easily get defensive about him not being rather independent. Harry smiled to himself.  
“What?” frowned Louis, noticing his smile.  
“Nothin’.”  
“In for a penny in for a pound,” Louis shoved his shoulder with his fist.  
“I thought whether it’d be appropriate to inquire you about the condition of your ankle, mister T,” Harry turned towards him and nodded at his foot. He soon frowned and bent closer to Louis’ leg.  
“Hey, what’s up there?” Louis bent forward as well.  
“You’ve got a bruise.”  
“Is it serious? I just fell down the chair, nothing huge.”  
“Does it hurt?”  
“No.”  
Harry carefully traced his finger down the bruise, which had just started to flower. Louis hissed,  
“Curly!”  
“Sorry,” Harry retrieved his hand at once, and put it on Louis’ thigh, turning to look at him. “I think you might’ve got a strain, Lou.”  
“A strain? Is it serious?”  
“Well, I’d say a week at home.”  
“Hey, I have classes!”  
“Then tomorrow we go to the doctor and they give you crutches?”  
“Is that a question?”  
“Yes?”  
“Do you want me to walk to class on crutches, like some idiot?”  
“Well, if you wanna I could carry you in for-”  
“Alright then, getting the crutchers tomorrow. You are driving.”  
“Obviously,” smiled Harry and clapped Louis on his thigh. He retrieved his hand and reached across Louis to take the blanket and muffle Louis up in it, leaving a bit for himself too. “If you don’t mind?”  
Louis only rolled his eyes and dropped his head onto Harry’s shoulder. The latter raised his eyebrows, which Louis didn’t see. Harry risked it and reached his arm out, hugging Louis closer by the shoulders. Louis snuggled up, getting more comfortable, which wasn’t that easy with your leg on a table, and hugged Harry across his belly. Skating and night walks in the park can really bring you closer, thought Harry.


	7. chapter 7

Harry’s whole body was numb. That was the first thought he got even before he opened his eyes. He turned his head and looked at Louis. It took a few more minutes to wake up completely and understand what was going on. Harry was on the sofa in his room, with his blanket up to his nose. Beside him was Louis, who was sitting with his head back and mouth open. Very romantic, huh. He didn’t seem to be cold, then. Harry took a deep breath and slowly let the air out. He got up and stretched thoroughly. His head got a bit dizzy, but Harry ignored it and slowly went into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep off his eyes. Water.  
When he was getting out of the toilet he heard,  
“Cu-u-rls?”  
“What up?” he asked, leaning on the doorframe. His voice was still husky from the sleep. Louis, muffled up into the blanket, with only his fluffed up hair visible from behind the sofa’s back, said,   
“Can I have some breakfast and a bit of water, please?”  
“The princess wouldn’t be so kind as to walk to the kitchen?”  
“The princess’s got an ankle.”  
“An ankle?” Harry was confused for a mere second. “Oh-h, an ankle,” he sighed and scratched his head. “Well, wait then, please.”  
Harry raised his arms above, for another stretch, and headed to the kitchen. Louis shouted after him,  
“And tea, if it’s not a bother!”  
“Don’t burst, Thumbs!” Harry cried back and put the kettle on.  
***  
After their breakfast Louis put his bowl onto the table and stared at Harry.  
“Wha’?” Harry swallowed the last spoonful of porridge and frowned under Louis’ stare.  
“Would you be so kind as to carry me to the toilets?”  
“Arms or back?” was the only thing Harry asked. Louis smiled to such readiness and said,  
“I don’t think I’m yet ready to be your bride, Harry Styles.”  
Harry shook his head and got up. He took the blanket off Louis and dropped on the floor, with his back to him.  
“Put ya’ arms around me neck then,” he said, turning to look at him. Louis hugged Harry by the shoulders from the back, trying to keep his arms far from his neck. Harry grabbed under his knees and put Louis’ legs carefully over his own. Louis absolutely refused to admit the goosebumps that ran down his whole body. “Ready?”  
“Yep.”  
Harry stood up and Louis’ world swinged a bit.  
“I’m so tall!”  
“Enjoy while you can,” murmured Harry and squeezed his thighs closer, preventing them from sliding down.  
“You too. Not everyday you carry me to the toilets, huh?”  
Harry snorted and switched on the lights in the bathroom. He got in, turned his back at the pan and sat down a bit, so Louis could slide down. When Louis did so, he clapped Harry on his backside and said,  
“Thanks for delivery, now you can leave.”  
“Need any support here?” mocked Harry, still standing in his place with his bum close to Louis’ face.  
“Styles, you either get your arse outta here or I’m calling your mom.”  
Harry snorted again and got out of the room, showing Louis’ his tongue right before closing the door.  
***  
They walked out of the hospital and into broad daylight. Louis closed his eyes, because the sun from this height was too much. He was sitting on Harry’s back, his crutches in his hands.  
“Have you considered trying to walk on them crutches?” Harry looked up from behind his curls.  
“Don’t you like carrying me around?”  
“Oi, shut up,” Louis heard Harry’s smile, and felt his own mouth stretching up.  
They got into the car and Louis threw his tools onto the backseat.  
“Shall I carry you to the uni on my back as well this Monday?”  
“Don’t want you to be in the centre of all the gossips, Curls, so I’ll use the crutches.”  
“Gossips?”  
“Well, yeah. You know, about that fabulous Louis that has made you gay for a sole purpose of using you.”  
“Have you just called yourself ‘fabulous Louis’?” Harry giggled like a little girl.  
“‘have anything against it?”  
Harry only laughed more, and Louis smiled.  
“What do we have for dinner, by the way?”  
“Well, considering the fact that you won’t get that much running for the next few weeks, I’ll make you some veg and boiled chicken breasts.”  
“Oh-h, please don’t, too tasty, I can’t take it.”  
“Joking, steak and rice would be okay, yeah?”  
“Hmm, chicken versus steak. Such a hard choice.”  
“Indeed.”  
“Probably the steak.”  
“You are so unpredictable, mister T.”  
“ ‘am shocked meself, Harold.”  
***  
On Monday Louis woke up even before Harry. He yawned widely. Harry beside him murmered something, and Louis turned to look at him. He was sitting with his knees up to his chest and his shoulder squished against the back of the sofa. Louis wished he could do that — but he had to keep his leg straight. That’s basically why he slept sitting, and at Harry’s. Louis bent his head left and right and cringed. His neck and back were super numb from all this sitting sleep. But that was the only option: offering Harry to sleep horizontally seemed like too much. Plus, the doctor said it could potentially be dangerous. For now, Louis was thankful for Harry just sleeping by his side, in whatever pose, because if he needed anything, he could always wake him up. Not that he had done that, but anyway. He reached out and gently shook Harry by the shoulder.  
“Hey, Curls, wake up. It’s morning. Hey,” Harry muffled further up in his blanket and didn’t even open his eyes. Louis wanted to try once again, but then Harry mumbled,  
“Wha’ time isset?”  
Louis took his phone, but the alarm got off right away.  
“Seven. Come on up, your students ain’t sleepin’ you know.”  
Harry practically wailed and opened his eyes. He frowned at Louis, while his eyes were gaining back their ability to focus in the dark, and then he said,  
“Good morning, Lou,” he was still under his blanket and kept just looking at Louis.  
“Good morning, Curly,” Louis smiled and couldn’t stop himself — he reached out and fluffed up Harry’s hair. Harry closed his eyes again and leant into the touch.  
“Alright, alright, I’m up.”  
Harry sighed heavily and opened up the blanket. He hissed at the cold, slid off the sofa and quickly got into his trousers and a tee.  
“Curls? Could you get me to the shower?’ asked Louis, pulling on his shorts.  
“Shower?”  
“Yep.”  
“How are you gonna shower?”  
“I’ll sit down.”  
“Ah.”  
“Aha. And you could make the breakfast in the meantime?”  
“Sometimes I feel like I’m your housewife, Thumbs,” Harry took Louis up in his arms, bridal style. When he carefully dropped him down onto the shower floor, Louis said,  
“Curls? Can you also bring me clean boxers please? Second drawer.”  
“What did I do-o-o,” dramatically wailed Harry and walked out. He came back in a minute. “My favourite, purple, don’t thank me,” he threw them at Louis’ head and got out before Louis managed to say “Curly!”.  
Louis somehow washed himself without dampening his bandage too much, and was now pulling on his tee. Harry knocked.  
“Hey, Thumbs, the breakfast’s almost there, you ready?”  
“Yeah, come in.”  
Louis stood leaning on the sink for support. Harry took him bridal style again and carried him to the kitchen. Louis refused to admit how much he liked when Harry was carrying him.   
They parked in front of the university and Harry took their bags. He got out and ran around to open the doors for Louis.  
“I can do it on my own, thanks,” grumbled he. Harry only smirked and handed him his crutches, giving him a hand also, to help him out of the car. After a torturing minute or two, Louis was finally walking with his crutches towards the steps, Harry to his right. Louis saw how he almost reached out his arms to carry him up the stairs, but Louis only tightened his teeth. He slowly but surely climbed the stairs, with no sliding, and looked at Harry when he reached the top, pride on his face.  
“Don’t even know why you’d need me, Thumbs,” Harry held the doors open for him.  
“Louis, bot Thumbs,” he nodded sternly and walked in.  
Niall looked at them when they entered and his eyebrows flew up.  
“Tommo, what’s up? Had too much footie?”  
“You play footie?” asked Harry.  
“Yep, semi-professional.”  
“Why did you never tell me?”  
Louis shrugged and Niall coughed.  
“I fell off the chair.”  
Niall barked a laugh and clapped him on his back.  
“Need help?”  
“Thanks, Nialler, but I do fine with mine,” he nodded at Harry, and Niall winked, for God knows why. “Ni-i-aler,” Louis rolled his eyes.  
“Wha’? How long ago did you fall?”  
“He winded down on Saturday, and yesterday we got him crutches,” Harry said and glanced at his watch. “The class is in ten minutes, let’s go.”  
“Where to? Yours is in the different wing.”  
“I’ll see you to yours first, just so you don’t fall or anything.”  
Niall smiled way too fondly for Louis’ liking and went to his class without Harry.  
“I’m not a three year old, Curls,” wailed Louis and walked out into the corridor, Harry right behind him.  
“I have your bag anyway.”  
“Will you come see me to my other classes during the breaks?”  
“Yes,” said Harry, as if stating the obvious.  
“But Curly!”  
“Welcome,” Harry held the doors to the classroom for him and followed him in. The students fell abruptly silent when they walked in. “I’m just watching for him not to fall. If something happens to his leg, your fault,” he solemnly said to them.  
“Shut up, Styles. He is joking.”  
Harry placed Louis’ bag on his table and bit his cheek so as not to smile.  
“What happened to you, mister T?” asked Katy from the second desk.  
Harry barely made it without laughing at “mister T”, but Louis only said,  
“I just fell, nothing serious, love.”  
“Louis William Tomlinson fell off his chair, when attempting to get a knife and a fork from the upper shelf, so as to later eat my chocolate cake, in the dead of midnight this Saturday,” solemnly said Harry. Some students giggled, and Louis looked at Harry. The latter only shrugged and smiled.  
“Wait, are you like, together?” somebody asked. Louis eyes flew wide open, and he felt his cheeks flowering with blush. But Harry seemed only glad for the question.  
“Unfortunately, we are only roommates. Because I am, quote, ‘Not my type, but do throw a t-shirt on, will you?’ type of guy.” Now the whole class was practically laughing, and Louis sighed. Unexpectedly even for himself, he felt his lips stretching up into a smile. It wasn’t because of the word “unfortunately”, now, was it?  
“Harold, I think you might have a class in another wing, which starts in a minute?”  
“My apologies,” Harry bowed to the class and winked at Louis — what a drama queen. However, Louis didn’t even breath out before the doors opened again. “Sorry, Lou,” he whispered and ran up to the desk. Harry forgot his bag. He waved at two students in the front, who were clearly fangirling, and finally left.  
Harry did indeed come back during the break and saw Louis to the teachers’ room. Louis managed to persuade him that the next class he had was right next to Zayn, who would see him to the next class, and would wait for Harry with him for them to go home. Naturally, Harry went to Zayn himself to talk about it. Zayn kept smiling softly and watching Louis with mild interest. The latter only rolled his eyes and bit his cheek, so as not to smile. On the one hand, he got annoyed by Harry treating him like a child. On the other, nobody had cared for Louis so thoroughly for a long ass time, and seeing Harry being genuinely concerned made him smile all the more.  
***  
Tuesday night Harry was sitting on the floor by the sofa, with his head in Louis’ lap, and reading the works of his sophomores. The rain kept beating quiet patterns on the window. The moon was casting its light on Louis, who was sitting by the lamp and checking his students too. The crutches were lying somewhere by the entrance, and the sofa now was a mix of pillows, blankets, and papers. Harry put aside his work and looked up.  
“Hey Lou, you done?”  
“Yep,” Louis nodded and marked the last paper. He took off his glasses and scratched his nose. His shoulders were moaning with sore, because they slept half sitting for the last few nights. He winced from the pain and Harry asked.  
“What’s up?”  
“My shoulders feel shitty,” Louis shrugged exaggeratedly and dropped them back.  
“Mine too. Want a massage?”  
“Really?” Louis was surprised. He didn’t feel comfortable asking Harry for anything more than he was already doing for him.  
“Yeah, why not? Or you think I’m that horrible?” Harry smiled and sat up onto the sofa.  
“With your fingers, Styles,” Louis stretched and put his papers onto the table. “Where should I sit?”  
“Here,” Harry got up and carefully took Louis’ injured leg off the chair it’d been on and put it on the arm of the sofa. Louis propped himself up on his arms. Harry threw a blanket over his legs and came back to his place. He sat behind Louis and bent his own legs so that now Louis could lean back on them.  
Harry placed his hands onto his shoulders and pushed his fingers into the muscles at the base of Louis’ neck. He started massaging, first softly, adding the pressure as he went. Louis slowly but surely relaxed, and soon his head was hanging between his shoulders, and he himself was moo-ing happily and satisfied. Harry started massaging his shoulder-blades, and Louis practically moaned. Harry giggled.  
“Cu-u-rls, have I told you you are the be-e-e-st?”  
“You sound like a porn-star.”  
“Don’t flatter youse- o-o-o-oh.”  
Harry snorted and kept going down Louis’ back. Louis leant forward, with his elbows on his knees. Soon long fingers were hugging Louis just at his waist, while Harry’s thumbs were drawing steady circles on his hips.  
“Here, come, your turn now,” Louis grabbed Harry’s wrists and gently pushed them away from his belly. He turned to look at Harry and was met by a strong surprise of the green eyes. “What? Your shoulders ain’t sore?”  
“You for reals?”  
“Curly,” Louis squeezed his wrists and turned a bit more, as much as his leg would let him.  
“Thanks.”  
“Welcome, but I haven’t even done anything yet. Come on, lay on your belly and I’ll sit on your buttocks.”  
“Buttocks? Have you been eating dictionaries for breakfast?” Harry smiled and got up.  
“Well, I can’t sit anyway, so I had that brilliant idea.” Harry took Louis bridal style, and placed him on the back of the sofa, laying across it himself.  
“Before you started moaning or after?”  
“Oi, shut up,” Louis was slow and careful in dropping down onto Harry. He ended up with his leg stretched out and pushing into Harry’s shoulder. “You're okay with it?”  
“Sure,” Harry mumbled into the pillow and shook his butt. Louis pinched his back.  
“Nice arse, Styles.”  
“You welcome, Lou.”  
Louis leant forward and started massaging Harry’s back. He started at the base of the neck, because he knew for himself how tight every muscle was there. Harry didn’t wait and moaned almost at once.  
“O-o-oh, good hippogryphs!”  
“Somebody had too much Potter?”  
“Shut u-u-up,” Louis pressed really hard, drawing circles with his thumbs. “Why is it so-o-o good.”  
“I know, right? I told you I’m fabulous.”  
“Almost as much as I am.”  
Louis pinched him again and Harry giggled, making Louis tremble with him.   
When Louis reached the bottom of Harry’s back, the latter turned on the TV. He found some romcom and threw the control onto the floor. The room got filled with soft voices and blue light. After a few more minutes, when Louis was almost done, Harry turned his head on him, propping himself up on his elbows.  
“Mister T, we’ve got a problem.”  
“What’s that?” Louis retrieved his hands and put them on his own thighs. Harry’s eyes were awfully happy and sleepy. Was it really that easy to please him?  
“You're are too good of a massage master, and I can’t get up now.”  
Louis rolled his eyes.  
“I’m serious, by the way,” Harry smiled more still.  
“Well then, move around.”  
“Well, technically, you are sitting on me, so I can’t.”  
“Styles, I swear you’ll drive me one day.”  
“Drive you crazy, you wanted to say.”  
Louis pinched him on the hip. He put one hand on the back of the sofa and put his uninjured leg onto the floor, giving Harry some room. He turned onto his back and moved to the side of the sofa. A few more awkward movements and murmeres about too much pizza for dinner later, Harry finally caught Louis by the shoulders.  
“You good?”  
“Yep,” Louis sat up and dragged off his tee. Harry got up and turned off the lights. He undressed and pulled on his shorts for sleeping. Harry wrapped Louis up in a blanket, getting another pillow from the armchair. “I thought somebody couldn’t move?” murmered Louis, sleepely, his every cell in the body tired and ready to doze off. Harry only winked at him, and got under his own blanket. Louis rolled his eyes, but smiled. Harry hugged him by the shoulders, and Louis put his head onto his chest, hugging his belly on the top of the blankets.  
“If I happen to hurt you leg when we sleep, you wake me up, yeah?” Harry dropped the sound of the TV to a minimum and put it on the timer. He hugged Louis with his other hand too, dragging him even closer. The latter threw his healthy leg over Harry’s and mumbled,  
“Don’t even doubt it.”  
Harry smiled and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think that friends didn’t really fall asleep hugging. Didn’t want to think Louis in his arms was something unusual. Because no. Harry knew for sure, that Louis in his arms was the most obvious thing.  
***  
Louis got out of the psychologist’s room on his crutches, awkwardly closing the door behind. It was the first time ever since the beginning of the semester. Mary said he made a huge progress: he hadn’t had any alcohol, except for a bit of wine with Harry here and there. And the wine wasn’t drunk to solve his problems, but to just have a good time. With Harry. Who was really surprised today, when Louis told him he’ll get home on his own. Harry didn’t ask for an explanation, because he was Harry, and Louis was very grateful for that. Harry seemed to always know where to stop. Especially after their very first quarrel. But Louis did realize that sooner or later he’d have to tell him about the psychologist. Even though he didn’t do it as often, he still needed help.  
Louis got out of the building and managed to get down the stairs. The bus-stop was five minutes away on foot, but for him it would take much longer. The black clouds already managed to cover up the whole sky, and the rain was about to start. Louis pulled up his hood and made two steps forward, when his own car stopped by. Harry.  
“Lou?” his voice got mixed up with the rain, and sounded impossibly cosy.  
“Curls,” Louis sighed.   
Harry got out of the car and took his crutches. He then ran back to the car to put them in, while Louis leant against the wall for balance. Harry took Louis bridal style, not saying a single word. The only thing Louis was left with is wondering how well they worked together — he didn’t have to say and Harry didn’t have to ask. Harry closed the door behind Louis, ran around the car and got into his own seat. He shook his head, like a small puppy, sending droplets of water all over the car.  
“You okay?”  
“Yeah. And why are you in the city?”  
“Had to buy some food. I texted you, but you wouldn’t answer, so I went on me own,” Harry nodded at the back seat, where a bag with food was, and got out on the road again.  
“You are just on time. You know, busses ain’t that comfy.”  
“As if I made you take them,” Louis could easily tell that Harry barely made it without rolling his eyes.  
“I’ve been seeing a psychologist,” he said on one breath.  
“Hm,” only nodded Harry, but Louis caught his frown.  
“I- I’ve had some serious problems with alcohol, so I saw her for a few months. To some extent it really did help. I stopped drinking every day. But any time we went out I’d lose it. Well, you remember.”  
Harry nodded again.  
“Yeah,” Louis ran his hand down his neck. “Decided you should know. Last time I went right after the club, by the way, when you left. And she said it would be useful to switch for summat else. And I switched on to the losing weight shit. Well, and you, if I may say so. Today was just a planned visit to make sure I’m doing okay. So thanks, I guess,” Louis finished his small speech, feeling afraid of Harry’s reaction.  
“Any time,” he smiled and turned to Louis on the traffic lights. “Am I that good a distraction?” he winked and started the car again.  
“Don’t flirt with me, Styles.”  
“Blushing already?”  
“Shut up.”  
The car filled with Harry’s laughter, and Louis leant back in his seat. He refused to admit how much better he felt now that he told everything. They kept silent for a few minutes, and then Harry called quietly,  
“Lou?”  
“Curly?”  
“If you ever need to talk, I’m here, yeah?” Harry parked the car and looked at Louis, suddenly concerned. “Okay? I know I’m not a psychologist of any kind, but if you just need to talk stuff out, I don’t mind listening.”  
“Sure, Curls. Thanks for offering. Means a lot,” he smiled and clapped Harry on his hand. He gently squeezed his fingers.  
Something cracked right above them, and little droplets of rain turned into heavy loud drops. Louis almost jumped. A thunderstorm had started. Harry squeezed his hand once again, clearly trying to calm him down, and Louis felt ashamed. He was so old and still afraid of thunderstorms.  
“Can you take the bag?”  
“Sure.”  
“Pull up your hood first.”  
Louis zipped up his jacket and put the hood over his head. Then he took the bag from Harry and placed it in his lap.  
“Good luck?” he smiled at Harry. “Oh wait, Curls. Here you go,” he fished out a beanie from the car door and handed it to Harry. The latter only smirked, but pulled it down his curls and took a deep breath, looking fairly ridiculous. He got out of the car and ran around to Louis, already wet through and through. The rain was falling without a stop, and by the time they got to the flat, Louis was soaking wet as well.  
“You ain’t about jackets at all, are you?” Louis nodded at Harry’s coat, the water from which was practically forming a puddle right beneath him.  
“You don’t like it?”  
Harry stopped by their door, and adjusted Louis in his arms, while the latter was trying to open the door. They got in, and Harry managed to take off his shoes somehow. He walked into the kitchen and sat Louis down on one of the counters.  
“Take off your clothes,” he smiled. Louis rolled his eyes and unzipped his jacket. He gave it to Harry and bent down to take off his trainers. A trainer, to be more exact. They had to cover his plaster cast with clean film, so that it won’t get wet. “Brrr,” Harry took it by the laces and made a face.  
“Thanks, Curls,” Louis smiled his sweetest smile and reached to switch on the kettle. “Tomorrow all your tortures will be gone!” he cried after him.  
“Can’t wait,” Harry came back in and smiled. He took the frozen vegetables out of the bag and handed them to Louis to put into the freezer.  
“But I have apologized a gazillion times already. Moreover, we left the crutches in the car, so for tonight you are absolutely screwed.”  
A lightning glared behind the window and another crack rang out. Louis took a sharp breath in. Harry frowned and threw the bag away. The kettle boiled, and he made them tea.  
“One second,” he went out with two cups in his hands, then came back and gave Louis the cookie box.  
“You’ll spoil me, Curly.”  
Harry smirked and mumbled something, turning his back on Louis. The latter got onto his back and soon they both dropped onto the sofa. Harry got up right after and threw at Louis his pyjama bottoms and a hoodie.  
“Some more respect, hey,” Louis mumbled and took off his sweater. When his head got out of his hoodie, Harry was already trying to get rid of his impossibly tight jeans. Louis wanted to turn away, but, “Even your pants got wet,” he snorted. Harry frowned and threw the jeans onto the floor. He looked down and indeed saw some wet places on his boxers. “You could at least button up your coat next time.”  
“Well, let’s check out yours,” Harry quickly got into his sweats and came up to Louis. The latter felt a bit ashamed that Harry had to help him dress now. He propped himself up on one leg, Harry holding him by the shoulders, and dragged his jeans down one leg. He sat back down and Harry dropped beside him. He carefully held his leg up and took off the rest.  
“It’s good I’m not into skinnies, huh?”  
“Very bad indeed,” Harry smirked and Louis’ eyebrows flew up.  
“Curly.”  
“Here you go,” Harry stood up, not looking at Louis, and gathered their wet clothing. He got out of the room, and Louis could have sworn the bastard was still smirking. Louis only sighed heavily and tried to pull up his sweats. Harry came back, muffled him up in a blanket and handed him his tea. He himself wrapped up in his own blanket, while Louis turned on the TV. Harry hugged him by the shoulders, and Louis felt thankful that they didn’t have to have excuses for such things anymore. So he got closer and put his head onto Harry’s shoulder. He felt that Harry pressed his cheek against his hair and sighed, pleased.  
“You okay?”  
“Yep,” mumbled Harry, and Louis could say he closed his eyes. The thunder cracked once again and Harry drew Louis closer. The latter buried his face into Harry’s neck and hugged him back. The tea was forgotten on the table, along with the biscuits. Quiet voices from the telly washed over them. But all Louis could hear was their breathing. All he could care to feel was Harry and his such a warm and cosy body, which protected Louis from all the worries in the world.  
***  
That Sunday morning Louis got up for the first time that week without Harry by his side. In his own bed. For all that, a strain did have some advantages. He’d become so used to that warm body to his right every morning. He stretched out and coiled right back up into a ball. But then somebody knocked.  
“Curls?” as loud as he could, mumbled Louis. He was still half asleep, after all.  
“Breakfast, Thumbs,” the room filled with the smell of the coffee and a low voice.  
“Missed me?” Louis smiled and sat up. Harry stopped beside him with a bowl of porridge and a mug in hands. Louis rubbed at his eyes and clapped the bed near him. “Eat with me?”  
“I’ve already eaten,” Harry frowned, but Louis did his best at puppy eyes. Harry snorted and carefully sat down, trying not to spill any coffee.


	8. chapter 8

Harry was sitting on the roof and looking up at the sky, trying to absorb yet a bit more sun. The wind blew, and he flinched, wrapping further up in his coat. What time was it? Harry didn’t have an answer. He suddenly remembered that one time Louis and he were sitting in the park, and he was reading the poems out loud. Harry too lost track of time there.  
People looked very small from up there. It was the first ever London roof Harry got his foot on. Frankly speaking, that was the first ever roof in his life. The height made his head spin and the wind blew down to his bones, but Harry was not complaining. He felt exceptionally well with the low sun, pink skies and his warm breath against the chill air.  
What was Louis doing right now? Harry didn’t know. What were his family doing? He again had no answer. Not that important. Not interested. Not now. The quiet, the chill and the calmness of the neighboring roof hugged Harry, swallowing him and taking him far, far away. It was as if he was in a fairytale. He was a prince. A prince on a bright red roof. Among the clouds. Lost in the skies, lost in somebody’s dreams and hopes. Lost in himself. Who was he? He was a prince.  
The thoughts ran through his head with the speed of a cheetah then slowed down to the lazy crawl of a cat. He didn’t mind that. His lips stretched up into a wide and slothful smile, and the inside blossomed in gardens. All was well. He had the job he liked, a nice flat, friends and poems. His all was very well. Very well.  
Harry couldn’t tell how long he spend on the roof. An hour? Two? A day? When he was climbing the stairs home he felt pleasantly tired, and the darkness swallowed him, inviting for a good long sleep. Sleep. And he wasn’t against it. He felt good.  
He entered the flat, undressed, and came further in. When he was passing his own room, he spotted something rather unusual there. Something (somebody?) was near the sofa. Harry stepped back a few and turned on the lights in the room.  
“Lou?”  
Louis was sitting on the floor, muffled up in a blanket and leaning against the sofa back. He didn’t particularly react to Harry, so he came closer and dropped on his knees. He was practically hit by the smell of alcohol. Harry frowned and looked around. Not far away he noticed an empty whisky bottle. Excellent. An angry wave rose inside. He lasted so long, how could he spoil everything just like that?  
“Louis,” Harry said strictly, and shook his shoulder. The latter’s eyes were glassy, and he looked straight forward, not really seeing anything.  
“Harry?” asked, sincerely surprised, finally looking at him after almost a minute. “You are here? What are you doing here? I thought you’ve left me,” he looked so lost, Harry felt uneasy. His magical mood flew out the window completely.  
“Get up,” he stood up and gave Louis a hand. He managed to get up, but the blanket fell off his shoulders, and Louis winced.  
“It’s cold,” he hugged himself. Louis was swinging slightly from left to right; he kept looking at Harry, not daring to look away. “Curls,” he smiled softly, and Harry’s heart started melting just like that. Now he felt pity. He looked so defenseless. Once again a little puppy in a new family. “I’m so sorry, Curls.”  
“Come on,” Harry said, much softer this time, and gently pulled him by the elbow.  
Louis obediently followed him, leaning heavily on Harry’s hand, which Harry still didn’t take away. They entered the bathroom, and Harry sat Louis down onto the pan. Louis became so small and submissive when he was drunk. Now he was just sitting there, looking at Harry with his sleepy, a little swelled up eyes. Harry tried to avoid his stare, when he bent down to take off Louis’ tee. The latter didn’t say a word — only lifted his arms up to assist. He looked so fragile and vulnerable — Harry’s heart sank. He wouldn’t mind a hot shower himself, but first, Louis. Harry hanged his tee onto the hook and bent down to Louis’ level again, now breaking the silence.  
“Come on, Lou, help me here,” he whispered, bringing his arms under his. Louis tried to stand straight, but he couldn’t really do it. He once again rested his head on Harry’s shoulder, like that one time after the club. Harry smiled a bit. “Good job. Now, we gotta turn,” he mumbled, holding Louis from the back and carefully turning him towards the shower cabin. “Now your knees, here you go,” he gently pushed Louis down, so he would sit on his knees in front of the shower. Nice. Harry reached out and turned the hot water on.  
“Mmm,” wailed Louis, and leaned back into Harry.  
“We have to, Lou,” he said in what he hoped sounded soothingly. “Come on,” he, still careful, pushed Louis forward, as if he was handling a fragile glass statue. The skin on Louis’ shoulders which Harry touched was practically burning. After Louis finally got his head under the water, Harry still kept his arm on one of his shoulders. With the other one he was turning the water temperature further down. Louis obediently held his head under the shower, his shoulders dropped, his resistance a zero. Harry thought that it was a very intimate moment. Like that one time in the car, when Louis asked him to stroke his hair.  
When his shoulders started trembling from the cold, Harry turned the water off and reached for the towel. Not really getting him out of the shower, Harry leaned over Louis and started patting his head dry. When he dried his shoulders, he finally put the towel away and carefully pulled Louis towards him. When he turned to face him, Harry patted Louis’ face, taking off the little beads of water.  
“Better?” he asked quietly, still sitting on the floor beside him. Louis’ knees were actually pressing painfully onto his toes. Louis only nodded and closed his eyes, leaning forward and resting his head on Harry’s shoulder again. He awkwardly hugged Louis’ back. feeling the hot skin under his fingertips, and started slowly stroking up and down his spine. They kept silent, until Louis started trembling again.  
“Let’s go,” Harry got up, holding Louis, and helped him up too.  
They reached the sofa and Harry sat him down. All this time Louis didn’t say a word and just stared in front of himself. Harry took the blanket from off the floor and wrapped Louis up in it.  
“I’ll bring some tea, be back in two. Want something else?”  
“No, thanks,” Louis’ voice was husky and very weak.  
Harry nodded and hurried to the kitchen. He came back with two mugs and dropped down near Louis, handing him one. Harry bent his legs under himself, took a sip and turned towards Louis.  
“You want to watch something?”  
Louis only shook his head.  
“Where did you go?” he asked, quietly.  
“Just walked around a bit, sat on the roof, thought,” Harry tried to sound off-handed and shrugged. But Louis didn’t joke, or smile, or make and sarcastic comment. Harry frowned and turned towards him. Where was his Louis?  
“Cool,” Louis kept avoiding his eyes, staring at the dark screen. Harry turned away. A few minutes passed like that. “I thought you went away. You know, for good.”  
“But why?” Harry was genuinely surprised.  
Louis shrugged.  
“I don’t know,” silence followed once more.  
“Is this why you got drunk?”  
Louis didn’t say anything for so long, Harry almost turned away, but then he gave him a tiny nod. Harry kept staring at him, and felt his lips stretch up into a smile. Why? He didn’t know. He didn’t even know why Louis had thought so in the first place. Louis frowned at him.  
“What?” he still was very quiet. So un-Louis.  
Harry shook his head. Again silence. But inside Harry, it seemed, a rose had opened its petals. He stared in front of himself, not seeing anything. He kept smiling when Louis put his head on his shoulder and coiled up. They weren’t hugging. They were just sitting side by side, Louis’ head on Harry’s shoulder. A full mug in hand. Louis in a blanket, and Harry in Louis. Harry didn’t know what time it was. He didn’t care to know.  
***  
“Curls?” called Louis when he entered the flat. Nobody answered him. Louis shrugged, undressed, and went into the kitchen.  
He checked his phone while sorting out the bag with food he just bought with Harry’s list. Nothing there — no calls, no messages. That was strange — Harry was usually home by that time today, his classes did end earlier, after all. Louis stared at the screen for a few more, sighed and put the phone away. Harry was a big boy, maybe he met somebody and just forgot to tell Louis. Resentment started opening its leaves inside, but Louis cut it at the root. He had nothing to be offended at. Harry was an independent adult, no need to worry, he’d call if there was something important.   
It was a Friday evening, and Louis had no plans for it. Well, he actually did, but the other half of his plan was wandering somewhere, so Louis concluded he’d have to watch movies and eat his pizza alone. Fairly enough, Harry didn’t really know about his plans, so he was free to have his own. Alternatively, they could go to a caffe. But no, that was already considered a date, wasn’t it? And Harry was his friend. Harry.  
Louis closed his eyes and sighed. His whole chest felt as if contracted, he couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. What if something had happened? What if he got hit by a car? Or robbed? Or beaten up?..  
Enough, Louis, stop. He dug into the bag once again, took out the food he bought and started putting it all into the right places. And no, he didn’t glance at the screen every minute.  
But where the hell was Harry?  
He heated up the pasta Harry had made yesterday, went into Harry’s room and turned on the TV. A few hours passed like that, but Harry still hadn’t called or texted. Or shown up. Obviously.  
When the clock hit ten in the evening, Louis sent all his principles to hell and grabbed his phone. He dialled Harry and brought the phone up to his ear. The dial tones were digging into his head like bolts, getting the agitation further and further into him. Where the hell was Harry?  
Another call.  
Who did he think he was?  
After the third call being unanswered, Louis threw his phone on the floor and crossed his arms over his chest. Three minutes later he reached for it and texted Harry,  
“where are you, Curls? I had plans with ya”  
As he expected, there was no answer.  
“i meant movies n pizza, by the way”  
No answer. Maybe Harry was avoiding him? Or finally decided to move away? That’s why he wouldn’t pick up. Something tore off inside and flew down very fast.  
He must have gotten tired of Louis, just like everybody else did. Louis remembered Sam, but this memory faded away quite quickly when he remembered his own father. He left Louis and his mom when he wasn’t even two. Later, when Louis had gotten older, he decided to show up. And he talked to them in such a way, as if it’d been completely okay that he’d left them. As if a call on his birthday every year was freaking enough. As if those nothings he sent while his mom was working long hours on any job she could find was enough. As if Louis could have forgotten about what he had gone through because of his father, and pretend it was all very fine. His father was as thoughtful as to meet him, after all. Louis was preparing for college at the time, and according to him, to become a man. Very soon he would marry a lady and have children. Louis would never forget the joy he felt when he told his dad he was gay. Two minutes. For exactly two minutes he was staring at him, as if somebody had just poured a bucket of ice cold water over him. After those gorgeous minutes, he suddenly remembered he had to be somewhere important and mumbled, “Yeah. yeah of course, you are an adult now. I have to go,” and after that, Louis didn’t see him once. And he once again became the head of the family of at that time four sisters. Louis remembered coming up to the mirror in his small room back in Doncaster and smiling at himself. He looked like his mama, just like every other sister did. It didn’t matter that they had different fathers. Louis never even thought they weren’t closely related. He never had anybody closer.   
Louis got up from the sofa and came up to one of the shelves, took out a whisky bottle from his mini-bar and leant against the sofa’s back. He suddenly couldn’t really see properly. Tears. Hot lines appeared on his cheeks. Fuck everything.  
He took a sip and felt the burning liquid warming up his throat. He winced and dropped his head. The tears kept coming. Louis took a deep breath, looked up and stopped blinking. Why? Why did he have to alone when everybody else was happy around him? Why was he born gay, when everyone else around was perfectly normal? A sob escaped his body. He took a shaking breath and dropped his head again. He took a few more sips and slid down the sofa back right onto the floor.  
Louis just sat there and drank, until he had nothing left to drink. He felt sick, twisted and empty. But that was all inside. In reality, he was just sitting there, staring at the doors. Waiting for Harry. Harry that wouldn’t come.  
Louis started shivering. Cold. Blanket. Warm.  
He stood up, awkwardly, pulled the blanket off the sofa and wrapped himself up in it. He didn’t know how many times he blinked or inhaled before somebody switched on the lights and appeared in front of him. He didn’t even realize who it was at first. Somebody very blurry.  
“Louis?” he heard a familiar voice.  
Louis really tried to concentrate. Harry?  
“Harry?” he finally managed to focus enough to find his eyes. In the green he saw confusion along with surprise. “You are here? What are you doing here? I thought you’ve left me,” he voiced all those thoughts that kept running through his foggy head. Harry was here. Beside him. He hadn’t left.  
“Get up,” was the only thing he said and then dragged Louis up by the elbow. Louis liked that Harry was touching him. When he got up though, he felt really cold all at once.  
“It’s cold,” he said the first thing on his mind. He kept swinging from side to side, either because of the alcohol, or the realization that Harry was there. Harry hadn’t left. “Curls. I’m so sorry, Curls,” Louis tried to smile, hoping his lips would obey him. Perhaps it worked. Harry’s face got somehow softer. He gently pulled Louis towards him and said quietly,  
“Come on.”  
Louis could have sworn he almost drowned in that low voice. And then there was the bathroom, the shower and the cold water in his hair. And his head stopped being that foggy.  
And then he was sitting on the sofa, his head on Harry’s shoulder. Such warm and such cosy Harry. Harry.  
***  
Harry woke up because of the bright light that was hitting him right on the eye. He screwed up his eyes, then carefully opened the right eye, then the left one. It took a few seconds to focus. It was dark all around with just a bright blue screen in the middle of the wall. The TV screen. But he never slept with the TV on. Harry frowned sleepily and looked around. Beside him sat Louis who was really engaged into what was happening on the bloody screen. Was he a robot or something?  
“Are you okay?”  
“What?” Louis finally noticed Harry wasn’t sleeping and looked at him.  
“What time is it?”  
Louis looked at his phone.  
“Five?” almost asked he.  
“In the morning,” finished Harry.  
Louis, as always, bit his lips, raised his eyebrows and shrugged.  
“Is it really that interesting?” Harry nodded at the TV.  
“I just couldn’t sleep, is all.”  
“But you did fall asleep.”  
“I woke up not long ago,” Louis seemed to have forgotten all about his TV-show.  
“Alright, I guess I’ll just go to your room then,” Harry reached for the corner of the blanket, but Louis grabbed his hand, looking terrified. Harry suddenly recalled everything that had happened a few hours before.  
“Curls.”  
Harry just nodded and put his hand back under the blanket.  
“Alright. What’s the show about?” Harry turned and made as if he was interested in what was on the telly. Louis started babbling about the plot, and Harry tried his best not to yawn. But he lost it. He turned away, hiding his mouth behind his hand, and made a good wide yawn. He turned back and felt tears in his eyes. God he wanted to sleep so bad.  
“Tea?”  
“Yep,” Louis nodded. Harry sighed and got up. He stretched and headed into the corridor, switching the lights everywhere on his way there. He came back in a few minutes with two steaming mugs in his hands and a chocolate bar.  
“Thumbelina,” he solemnly nodded, placing the cup in front of Louis.  
“Curly,” mirrored him Louis.  
When Harry finally managed to focus on what was on the screen, he realized it was “Friends”. He listened closer and made out the whisper of rain behind the window. The blanket kept his feet warm, Louis was cosily by his side, a mug with tea was steaming in his hands, and the chocolate was melting in his mouth. Five in the freaking morning. It all was well.  
He really did like that. There was something unexplainably snug about a very early and very rainy morning, a good TV-show and tea.   
They managed to watch several episodes by the time the sun went up.  
“What do you wanna have for breakfast then?” it seemed like Louis felt guilty about what happened the day before and felt the need to make it up for Harry.  
“What about we go to a caffe?”  
Louis raised his eyebrows, surprised, but nodded.  
“Sure.”  
The only caffe which was open this early on a Saturday morning was quite a few steps away from them. The rain hugged them with its tiny drizzle, but the smell of coffee and the cosiness of that little place were absolutely worth it.  
“Thumbs,” Harry came to the table by the window and pulled back a chair for Louis.  
“You’ll spoil me, dear Curls. Thank you.”  
Harry smiled so big that a dimple appeared on his cheek. Louis sat down and reached for the menu. A dimple. Coffee. A dimple?  
“Curls?”  
“Mm?”  
“What are you gonna order?”  
“Tiramisu, and- hmm,” he bit onto his lower lip and Louis suppressed the urge to reach out and drag it out with his hand. A narrow line appeared between Harry’s eyebrows — it was always there when he was thinking deeply. His hair after sleeping and the rain was all messy and curly. He stretched out his legs, as he usually did, and now they were touching Louis’ under his chair — the table was way to small. Louis thought that was definitely too much. He swallowed and felt something very warm opening inside. It was merging on burning him. “Latte?” Latte?..  
“A very coffee-ish morning,” only said Louis. Harry shrugged and closed the menu. He leant back and started looking around the caffe, stopping at the man in the furthest corner — he was, by the way, the only one besides them. “How come you are drinking coffee?”  
“Latte is a lot more milk than it is coffee anyway,” he shrugged. “Chosen something?”  
“A cherry pie and a cappuccino, I think,” Louis turned to the waitress and summoned her by the hand.  
They made their order and started waiting. Harry kept just sitting there in his plain grey sweater and black skinnies, seducing Louis. That was no good at all. And those damn feet that so delicately touched his ankles in all the right places.  
On the one hand, the morning was terribly cosy. On the other hand, Louis felt the guilt of what had happened the day before.  
“Harry?” he asked quietly.  
“Lou?” Louis really liked when Harry used that nickname.  
“Please forgive me for yesterday. I- Forgive me. I’m such an idiot. Something got on me, and I just- I would never get drunk again, I promise.”  
“I understand, it’s fine,” Harry reached out a hand and Louis looked up at him from the table. The palm of Harry’s hand covered his own and Louis frowned, amazed. He expected Harry to frown and take time to think through it, to get angry. But no. There was nothing like that in his eyes. Or did it just seem like that to Louis?  
“Thank you,” he tried to give him a smile. “For yesterday and for today. And I’m sorry I woke you up so early.”  
“To be honest, I liked it. I mean, the morning,” Harry looked embarrassed of himself. Harry! Harry, who wears pink shirts with hearts on them and braids his hair was blushing! Louis closed his eyes and shook his head. “Wha-at?” asked Harry a bit defensively. Louis felt his hand being turned, so that now Harry was drawing circles on his knuckles with his thumb. Louis carefully opened one eye, than the other one. A smile appeared on Harry’ face, slowly.  
“Wha-at?” now was Louis’ turn to get defensive.  
“You look like a puppy,” Harry shrugged and drew away his hand. Louis wanted to pout, but then he looked behind Harry and saw a waitress with their order.  
“A puppy, aha,” murmered Louis, when the girl left.  
Harry giggled quietly into his cup.  
“Come on, I’m gonna get offended now!” almost offended, cried Louis and frowned. Harry put his cup onto the table and laughed even more, leaning back, his hands on his belly.  
“Ohh, goodness, I adore you,” breathed out Harry, running his hand down his face. A silly hope lightened up inside Louis, but he cut it straight at the root. Harry gestured at his own lips, and Louis raised his eyebrows, questioningly. “You have your coffee milk all over your upper lip,” he kept smiling. Excellent. Louis must have looked very funny when impersonating a damsel in distress with a milk moustache.  
“Shut it, Curls,” he smiled into a napkin.


	9. chapter 9

Harry flopped down onto the sofa beside Louis. They came back from the caffe, and it was still morning, although Harry felt like the lunchtime had already passed. Louis reached for the remote control and switched on the TV, then handed Harry his tea. In that short time they were walking from the caffe back home the rain managed to start, so they were soaked through when they finally got inside. They changed their wet jumpers and jeans for dry sweats and t-shirts. All that morning was one huge cosiness and warmth, despite the wet hair, which didn’t seem prone to detangling any time soon. He didn’t want the morning to be over.   
Harry carefully looked at Louis, trying not to stare too much. He felt so good around him, as if they’d known each other for a lifetime. He had grown quite used to just sitting around with him like that lately, reading books, watching movies, marking their students’ assignments or simply talking.  
Louis coiled up into a ball, getting his knees all the way up to his chest and getting under Harry’s blanket. Harry himself wrapped further up into a thinner blanket and took a sip. Louis was sitting on another end of the sofa, and Harry caught himself thinking that he wanted to be closer. Why? He didn’t know.  
He put his cup onto the floor near Louis and got closer. Since he was taller, Louis’ head could fit perfectly well on his shoulder. What the latter did eventually, murmuring,  
“Curly, Curly.”  
Harry smiled and sipped his tea again. He felt a lot better now.  
“Are you warm?” Louis asked and raised his head to put his empty cup onto the table. Harry did the same thing.  
“Yeah, I’m good.”  
“Sure? Your blanket is pretty thin.”  
Harry only shrugged. He didn’t want to go take a proper blanket from another room or ask Louis to go there. Here and now was too good, and he wasn’t intent on spoiling the moment. It seemed like Louis didn’t want that either. He just got his hand in-between Harry’s back and the sofa, and hugged him with his other one as well. So that now Harry was in a cocoon of both his and Louis’ blankets, and Louis himself. Harry reached out and hugged Louis by the shoulders, tucking him closer to his side.  
“Lou?”  
“Mmm?”  
“What do they mean?” Harry dragged his finger down Louis’ forearm, following some of the tattoos with his thumb.  
“What do they have to mean?”  
“I mean-” Harry shrugged. “I thought maybe they have some secret meaning behind them?” Harry said into Louis’ hair, firmly ignoring how intimate that moment was. Again. But Louis didn’t seem to mind. Harry could feel his delicate fingers on his own tummy, drawing little circles.  
“Do all yours mean summat?”  
“Well- About a half of them, I guess. Here on my shoulder is me sister’s name. On the collarbones — the years of birth of my parents,” Harry pointed at Louis’ collarbones instead. “The butterfly here I just liked a lot,” he smiled. It did look cool after all.  
“I’ve got ‘The Rogue’ on by ankles.”  
“What does it stand for?”  
“The name of my band, didn’t I tell you?”  
“Nope.”  
“What was the name of yours, by the way?”  
“Well, certainly not one for a tattoo,” Harry chortled.  
“Could you be a bit more specific?” Louis pinched Harry on the stomach.  
“Auch! It’s ridiculous. But remember that it was about ten years ago, and it was not me who came up with it. Ready?”  
“Spill it out.”  
“White eskimo?” asked Harry, and Louis exploded with laughter. He hid his face in Harry’s shoulder. “Oi, Thumbs,” Harry slapped him on the back.  
“Sorry-y,” Louis kept giggling.  
“I warned ya.”  
“You named your band for an ice-cream?”  
“We were fifteen!”  
Louis only shook his head and coiled back up in Harry’s arms. The latter got the blanket higher up Louis’ shoulders and dragged him closer. Nobody said a word, but they didn’t really need to. A few minutes later, and despite the coffee, they fell asleep, still hugging. And Harry dreamt again of pink clouds, red roofs and blackberry ice-cream with white chocolate.  
***  
It took Louis about thirty seconds to realize that everyone around was holding hands. Couples.  
“Harry, what the hell?” he asked, frowning. They were in a queue to get to the exhibition of sculpture.  
“Oh, I must’ve forgotten to tell you, haven’t I? The theme of it is sculptures that come in pairs, you know, so they let you in only if you’ve got a partner. The ticket is for two only,” as if it was absolutely normal, said Harry. He raised the ticket higher and Louis saw that it was indeed one ticket with two spaces for names, titled “for a couple”. And Harry was telling it to him only now? He’ll have to endure couples for a whole ass evening? Should he go now? Harry suddenly took his hand, not even daring to look his way.  
“I’ll kill you, Curls,” Louis hissed into his ear. Harry blushed and squeezed his hand tighter. And no, Louis certainly hadn’t felt any odd warmth inside, certainly not. Harry handed their ticket to the lady.  
“Don’t let go of me, will you?” he said quietly, when they entered the hall. Louis couldn’t even tell if it was Harre’s desire or the secrecy.  
“You’ll bring breakfast into my bed till your dying day, Curls,” just said Louis into Harry’s ear, for which he had to get on his tippy toes. He realized what the hint behind it was way too suddenly, and his cheeks got really red. But the words were out. Harry smiled, still not looking at Louis, and pulled him by the hand towards one of the sculptures: two birds that were tied into a close embrace with each other. There was a little sign at the bottom.  
“Lovebirds. France. 18th century. The author is unknown,” Harry read off it. He looked at Louis, dropped his head to his ear, and said, quietly, “Just below my collarbones I’ve got those birds tattooed on me,” his low whisper sent goosebumps down from Louis’ ear.  
“Are you flirting with me, you shorty?”  
“I’m just trying so that they won’t kick us out,” Harry’s breath was freaking burning Louis’ skin. His face was still way too close for Louis’ sanity to stay in place. You want to play it grown-up, Curls?  
“I’m gonna get you in the toilets and take your butt’s innocence with me from there.”  
“Alright, alright, change of topic,” Harry immediately straightened up, but kept his hand entwined with Louis’.  
Despite the fact that Harry literally dragged him all over the hall all night by the hand , like a small child, Louis did like the exhibition. And he also admitted to himself that he liked to hold hands with Harry. Pathetic. He didn’t have such a person to hold hands with for a good amount of months now. During those months there were only random nights with people, which have actually stopped with Harry moving in. That Louis realized only now. But really, ever since they moved in together, he didn’t even think of it.   
They were stuck in the traffic jam, when Louis turned onto Harry and looked at him from a completely different perspective.  
“No,” he said out loud. Harry was just very nice to be around with. He was a charm. A typical flirty extravert that everybody likes.  
“What, ‘no’?” Harry frowned. “You didn’t like the exhibition?”  
“Ah? No, no, sorry, I was just in me head. I liked the exhibition by the way. And if somebody had forewarned me, would have been even better.”  
“Would you come then?” Harry said bluntly, challenge in his voice. Louis pressed the gas pedal. What was he supposed to answer to this? What if he was mistaken? “Lou?”  
“I don’t know,” Louis shrugged, trying to look at ease. “Probably. Bored at home anyway.”  
“So what do we make for dinner tonight?”  
“We could eat out.”  
“You reckon they’ll have free spots?”  
“We’ll find some. I have to show you to the city, Curls.”  
“Do I look that good?”   
Today Harry was sporting a loose red shirt, which was of course unbuttoned to below his pecs, his usual black skinnies, today with cut knees, a black blazer and a hat.  
“As usual,” Louis shrugged.  
“Ha, amazing as usual,” he smiled playfully and threw his hands behind his head. Louis smiled and turned on yet another traffic lights. A few minutes later he parked the car near his favourite caffe on a very quiet London street.  
“My pleasure,” he said, holding the doors open for Harry. The latter bowed, took off his hat and went inside. The place was indeed very quiet and only half full. They took the table by the window, from which they could see much of the street, lit up with the street lights.  
“It’s cozy in here,” said Harry. Louis smiled again and a waitress came up to them. When she had left, Louis looked at Harry, who raised a questioning eyebrow.  
“Harry, can I ask you a question?”  
“Mm?”  
“Do you have a girlfriend?”  
“As if you hadn’t noticed that I do not,” said Harry a very obvious thing. But Louis had to get to the more important question.  
“A boyfriend?”  
“I’m into girls,” automatically said Harry.  
“And you’ve never even considered?”   
Something close to a doubt ran through Harry’s eyes, but no.  
“I mean, I didn’t have a reason to think about it. It’s just I’m probably not that good at relationships. Had only one proper one, others were like a month or two.”  
“Did you ever think why though?”  
“Just not lucky enough?” he shrugged again. “When did you realize you are into guys, by the way?” he asked suddenly. A second for thinking, and Louis answered,  
“After we got a newbie in our school. I was sixteen.”  
“Were you scared?”  
“Yes,” Louis nodded, remembering those times. “I ran up to me mom and couldn’t say a single word. Didn’t tell her that day. Was so scared, I nearly shitted meself. You know, they didn’t like such boys at our place.”  
“Yeah, I get it,” Harry nodded. They started talking about it only in the last few years.  
“Exactly, and before it they could- I mean, I was really scared,” Louis ran his hand down his neck. Those memories weren’t that pleasant. “I was trying to make it with girls at the time, trying to prove I’m normal. But I couldn’t feel anything. Not from kissing, not from sex.”  
“You had sex with a girl?”  
“Yeah, I lost my virginity to a girl. My thoughts at the time were that if I sleep with a girl, I’ll probs like it so I won’t look at boys again.”  
“And?”  
“Didn’t work,” Louis smiled, shaking his head. “As you can see.”  
“And how did you- Like-”  
“When I entered uni, I met a guy there, he was gay, like openly so. And he liked me. You see, Curls, the majority of couples are built from the opposites, so to say. So there are like “typical” gay people,” Louis made air quotes in the air, “males I mean. They are more fragile, feminine, if you’d like, they don’t have that much muscle, soft voice, et-cetera. I mean you can always tell they are gay. And then there are absolutely normal looking blokes. Like Liam or like you,” Harry gave a sudden start, as if somebody slapped him on the face, and blushed a notch. Louis frowned. “Not to say you guys are gay, just an example. Like tall ones, with decent muscle, low voice. You can’t tell there at all, even I wouldn’t be able to. So that guy was like the first ones, feminine,” Louis stumbled — he didn’t like to categorise people. “And he was quite friendly and had lots of friends. And I got into the circle as well. And then we were at that party, got super drunk, and-”  
“Had sex?” Harry whispered. Louis thought he looked a bit down even. Louis nodded and continued.  
“And I liked that. We didn’t date or anything, he had new guys every week or so, but that was the moment I knew for sure. I got my shit together and told mom over the holidays,. Shit, I was scared she- she-” Louis couldn’t say it. It was becoming way too personal. But Harry seemed to understand him.  
“She wouldn’t understand you?”  
“Yeah. It was hard for her, but she always loved us. And the sisters, they- Maybe because they were still small, those little things, when they were growing up they already saw me with guys, so they didn’t think it was abnormal or anything,” Louis felt unexpectedly lighter. Yet vulnerable as well. Now Harry knew about him more than the majority of other people did.  
Their order had arrived, and until the girl went away, they didn’t say anything.  
“So, the opposites?” said Harry, starting on his salad.  
“Not necessarily. See, I’m to be the second type, although I’m not that masculine. And I had guys just like me, and the opposites,” he shrugged. “You can’t know for sure with it.”  
“And how many did you have?”  
Louis froze for a fraction of a second.  
“Well, proper ones only one.”  
Harry hastily nodded, and smirked,  
“Otherwise you changed the guys like gloves?”  
“I did,” Louis returned the smirk, thankful for Harry to have changed the topic.  
“Lou? Can I have another question?”  
“Ask away, my boy, ask away,” smiled Louis, proud of himself for the reference, to which Harry smiled as well. But Louis tensed inside. On the other hand, it was just Harry (pun intended).  
“How did the boys learn you were gay?”  
“Well, Zayn was the first one to know right after my family, we are friends since childhood, you know. The others- Hmm. I guess I had my proper one at the time we got to know each other, so they saw me talking to a guy all the time, I believe they kinda figured that out for themselves, I didn’t have to do any coming-out shit.”  
“I see.”  
“You know, I felt even more confident after that,” unexpected for himself, said Louis.  
“After what?”  
“Getting friends with them. I mean, they accepted it without a single word, like it was absolutely normal that they had girlfriends and I boyfriends,” Louis felt something warm and fluffy inside.  
“That’s cool,” Harry smiled, and Louis noticed the dimple on his left cheek. “What?” Harry noticed his stare and touched the place. “Do I have food there?”  
“No, sorry, I was just thinking.”  
When they were sitting back in the car, Louis getting out of the parking lot, he asked,  
“How about we buy some wine and have a movie night?”  
“Only if you promise not to fall asleep on me again.”  
And so they spent the evening sitting on the floor, sharing a bottle of wine, conversations, and a comedy in the background. Harry kept watching how much Louis had drunk, and at some point the latter joked,  
“Afraid you’ll have to get me in the shower again?”  
“Sounds like porn.”  
“You wish,” Louis winked and lay on his back, having put his glass onto the table.  
“The only thing on my mind,” murmered Harry and lay beside him. Louis didn’t know if he was meant to hear it or no. But his slightly foggy from the wine mind decided to flirt.  
“Enjoy it while you can, Curls. You’ll go away very soon.”  
“Still have two weeks till the semester ends, don’t I.”  
Louis felt as if somebody squeezed all his insides in big fat fist. He had this feeling every single time they mentioned Harry’s departure. They have already signed Harry out of the rent for the next month, and he was packing some of his things bit by bit. And just as slowly as Harry’s suitcases got filled up, Louis realized, day by day, he won’t be okay without Harry. He, it seemed, had fallen in love. And no, it wasn’t the wine. And not them holding hands the whole evening. Now Louis allowed himself to think that way, he believed it started ever since that night in the park, with blackberry skies, poetry and tea. Sometimes he felt like he had known Harry his whole life, as if they knew each other since childhood, and later just got separated into different places. And now they have found each other. But no. It’s just Louis’ silly life had again twisted everything in the wrong way. He fell in love with Harry, who liked girls. Harry, of all people. He didn’t fall in love with Zayn, whom he did know his whole life. Not with Niall, who could make him laugh at the blink of an eye. Not with Liam, who was probably the most caring and reliable of them all.  
Maybe you just have to have people like Harry in your life, though Louis. People so beautiful, so kind and caring, and impossibly loved. People that make you smile from the thought of them. People for whom you’ll shove all your worries into the furthest drawer to just enjoy that one moment together. People with whom you’ll never be one, but thanks to whom you’ll understand what it means to love.  
Louis sighed heavily and swallowed past the lump in his throat. They kept silent for already a few minutes, each one lost in his own thoughts. Louis turned his head to look at Harry, and the latter did the same. A few inches — and they could kiss. Harry looked somewhere down below and Louis followed his gaze. Harry entwined their fingers. Louis smiled, feeling hot tears burning his eyelids. He tried to take a deep breath and stay unnoticed. Harry raised their hands, lit by the blue light of the telly, and said,  
“I’ll miss you, Lou.”  
Louis thought that if he tried to say something now, his voice would most certainly break and he’d cry. So he just turned and rested his head on Harry’s chest. Harry let go of his hand and hugged him. Louis went up and down with Harry’s breathing pattern. He sneaked his hand into the small space between Harry and the floor, hugging him as tightly as he could. He tucked his face into Harry’s tee, which got wet from his tears very soon. Louis didn’t want to let go of Harry. Didn’t want to let him go that much that he wasn’t even ashamed of his tears. He sobbed and Harry’s hand shot immediately up to his hair. He kept stroking his head and back, not saying a single word. Louis suspected he was about to cry himself.  
Louis couldn’t bring himself to look at Harry, so instead he opted for concentrating on Harry’s breathing. Alcohol and the warmth of his body did their job and soon Louis dozed off. Somewhere in-between the slumber and the reality he felt Harry sat up, still holding him tight. Then Harry got up, still holding Louis as if he was a small baby. A moment after he sat down again, now on the sofa, as Louis figured out. Then Harry lay on his back, and Louis was on him once again. He tucked his nose into Harry’s neck, and got a bit to the side, so that he wouldn’t press on Harry that much in the night. Harry turned and brought Louis as close as he could. Harry smelled of sweat, almost female flowery perfume and something salty. As if the green in his eyes added that last sea-like note. When he spoke, Louis noticed that his voice was very husky.  
“Good night, Lou,” and then Harry kissed him on the temple and pressed his cheek against Louis’ hair.  
Louis didn’t know if it was all a dream or no, and maybe tomorrow he’d wake up on the floor, all his bones aching and crying for mercy. Louis knew only one thing, and that was that he had again forgotten all his worries and concerns and was just in the moment with Harry, even if it was a dream.   
Harry couldn’t fall asleep for a long time that night. When the film ended and Louis’ breathing was normal again, he got them on the sofa. But that didn’t help either. The thought of leaving wouldn’t stop buzzing him. Thoughts about what he’d miss. Especially about that small Louis, that now was in his arms, breathing into his neck with his soft lips. Harry got confused even more. He couldn’t stop thinking back to Mark, and how good it felt being with him. But maybe it was just his first ever relationship? The first love, the first kiss; the first time you can tell the whole world you have a person; the first time you can build actual plans with somebody; the first time you can call someone in the middle of the night and tell them everything that keeps you up at night. But the thing was, now he wanted all of that with Louis. He hadn’t had any sort of relationship for a long time by now, and it wasn’t even about sex. He didn’t have somebody to go to all his impossibly boring exhibitions. Somebody who could criticise him down to a ‘t’, and not be offensive. Somebody he could take care of. Somebody who’d miss him every time Harry would have to go away, and wait back home for him. Somebody who would be genuinely surprised that Harry had prepared food for them for the whole day ahead. Somebody who would have been incapable of living without him. Somebody who could joke about him all day, and at the end of it just hug it all away. Somebody very petite, but very proud. Somebody incredibly loud and messy and childish, who wanted to appear grown up with all them tattoos and footie games. Somebody who had six little siblings for each of whom he had to be an example. Somebody who was now peacefully breathing into his neck, and whom Harry will miss terribly for a very very long time.  
This week he had come up to the school administration, but he was told his place would be taken next semester. Yesterday, when Louis had a class, Harry drove to the two other neighboring universities, and was told no again. And now Harry had no choice but to go back. He didn’t want to tell Louis about his feelings. Partly because he wasn’t sure of them himself, partly because it would have just made everything more complicated. Long distance was a tough one, and they hadn’t even started yet. Harry sighed heavily and pulled Louis closer still. He closed his eyes and sink into the dreams of long flights, sad goodbyes and tight hugs.


	10. chapter 10

Harry shut his suitcase and sat down right onto it. He looked around. The room was exactly the same as he saw it for the very first time. Shelves full of books, the TV in the middle of the wall, the sofa behind his back, the window with the balcony to his right, the door to the corridor to his left. As if he hadn’t lived here for the last few months. Only on the cabinet under the TV there was a framed photograph from a concert in the university some time ago. Harry was smiling with his tongue out, Louis crossed his eyes, Zayn looked like a model on a magazine cover, Liam was hugging Niall and Zayn by the shoulders, and quirking his eyebrow comically, Niall himself was giving the camera-man his most Niall-ish smile. Louis gave him that picture right after he got the copies, and exactly the same one was right now in Harry’s suitcase. Ever since they had them, Louis placed his here, right next to Harry’s, no matter how many times Harry said two identical pictures looked silly beside each other.  
“Curls?”  
“Lou?”  
Louis sank down beside him and locked his hands. He looked in front of himself.  
“I’ve heated up the dinner. Let’s go eat?”  
“Yeah.”  
They didn’t move.  
“We are getting up at four?”  
“Lou, you don’t have to-”  
“Curls, we’ve talked about it. I’ll see you to the station, okay? No more questions.”  
“Alright, alright, don’t blow up.”  
“I wasn’t going to. The food is getting cold.”  
“Let’s go,” Harry got up and gave Louis his hand.  
“You will text me, yeah?” Louis kept asking similar questions lately. ‘You won’t forget your ol’ Louis, will ya?’, ‘Will meet again, yeah?’, ‘You ain’t, like, disappearing from this world, after all.’ God knows how much he didn’t want to let go of Harry.  
“Of course, I’m just going back home, not on the other side of the world, Lou,” Harry smiled.  
“You right,” murmered Louis looking down at his feet.  
“Hey,” Harry took him by his forearm and came closer. Louis pressed his forehead against Harry’s shoulder and put his arms around him. “You are going home for holidays too, aren’t you?”  
“At least I’m coming back.”  
“Hey. I’ll come visit, I promise. Lou.”  
“Aha,” Louis only pressed closer and Harry started stroking his back.  
They could hear the ticks of the clock from the corridor and smell their dinner. The whole flat was getting darker every minute, the night was almost there. Suddenly they heard somebody laughing in the street. Louis felt even worse from such a contrast. The semester ended way too quickly. Harry was going away for good and nothing, not even his birthday or Christmas, was going to cheer Louis up.  
“I’m sorry I won’t be here for your birthday,” as if read his mind Harry.  
“It’s fine, traitor.”  
Harry laughed small and quiet, and squinched his eyes very very hard. He won’t cry. No-no-no. He hugged Louis closer and took a deep breath.  
“Hey, I don’t think I smell that good after my run.”  
“You are the tastiest smell, Lou.”  
“See, Curls, after this semester you can finally flirt.”  
“Shut up.”  
“Or you can’t.”  
“Idiot.”  
“I’ll miss you too, Curls.”  
“Me too,” Harry laughed, and couldn’t find a single reason why. Maybe it was his defensive mechanism for coping with stress. He didn’t want to go, but his semester here was only an internship, and he had to go back home. He was leaving the city that gave him four friends, a shit ton of poetry books, pink clouds, pouring rains and simply happiness. Niall’s laughter, behind which he hid all his worries. All Zayn’s mysteriousness, which went to shit the second he cracked up laughing. All Liam’s “coolness” which flew out the window with any of his caring question. Louis’ fake childishness, behind which he managed to conceal a whole summer of colours, smells and kindness. And then his summer spoke,  
“We really need to go eat that food.”  
Harry took another deep breath and squinched his eyes one last time, just to make sure. He let go of their embrace and took Louis by the hand, pulling him towards the kitchen.  
The first few minutes they ate in silence, but then Louis said that their music teacher would really miss Harry. They even laughed, even though quite tensed. After the dinner Harry put the dishes into the dishwasher. Louis watched him, unable not to think that Harry was doing absolutely everything for the last time in that flat. Was Harry thinking the same?  
“Well, I guess it’s bedtime.”  
The flat was almost completely dark, although it was only around eight in the afternoon. But they had to catch enough sleep.  
They stopped by Harry’s room, and Louis faced him, looking at his feet.  
“G’night, Lou,” whispered Harry.  
“Sweet dreams, Curls,” Louis smiled and fluffed up Harry’s hair. Harry smiled back at him and they went each into their rooms.  
Just as Louis had thought, he couldn’t sleep. He kept rolling over in his bed, trying to persuade his body to relax, but he simply couldn’t. Tomorrow would be a really hard day. First, they get up very early, which is certainly not Louis’ cup of tea; then, he had to meet the landlord to give in his flat for two weeks of the holidays, then the ride home. Louis knew for sure that tomorrow he would feel like shit, what with Harry’s departure and almost no sleep. Nevertheless, he rolled off the bed and went into Harry’s room. The latter, just how Louis had thought, was sitting on the sofa and watching TV. Louis silently dropped beside him and rested his head on his shoulder. Harry, as always, hugged him by the shoulders and pressed his cheek against his hair. Louis wrapped up in Harry’s warmth, trying to take in every movement of his chest. He contemplated how pathetic he actually became. He was so hungry for Harry’s attention, who loved him with all his heart, but as a friend. It was all so messed up. But if you really love the person, you should let them go? You should, yeah? At least almost all the love novels Louis had read said so. You have to wish them the best and forget you egoism. Give him a chance for a normal life. Let him go? Fucking hard it was then.  
Louis felt Harry beside him relax, and his hand dropped into Louis’ lap. He had fallen asleep. Louis smiled, and he didn’t know why. He carefully got out of Harry’s arms, and as slowly as he could, so as not to wake Harry up, he laid him down on the sofa and tucked him in with the blanket. Louis couldn’t stop himself, so he gently ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, getting them out of his face. When Harry was sleeping he looked like a very small and peaceful creature. Louis bent down and kissed him on the forehead. Having made sure one last time that Harry was properly tucked in, Louis left the room and soon was lying in his bed once again, fruitlessly trying to fall asleep.  
***  
The alarm rang way too early for Louis’ liking. He felt like he had just closed his eyes. He got off the bed, got dressed and a few minutes later entered the kitchen. To his surprise, Harry wasn’t there.  
“Hey Curls, it’s not me who has a train in two hours, come on!”  
“Mmm?” Harry turned onto his stomach and unglued his head from the pillow.  
“It’s four, get up.”  
“Already?” Harry closed his eyes and opened them again, trying to focus on Louis. He frowned. “Yeah, here. I- Breakfast,” murmered he while sitting up and disentangling himself from the blanket. “What time did you fall asleep?”  
“At two?”  
Harry zipped up his jeans and yawned widely. He took the sweater off the floor and pulled it over his head. “Let’s go?”  
“When will you get home again?”  
“Well, my lunch will be with mom already.”  
“So fast.”  
“Aha. And you only in the evening, yeah?”  
“Yep,” Louis sat down and soon Harry put a bowl of porridge in front of him. “I’ll have to meet up with the landlord too, give them the spare keys, they wanted somebody to live here while it’s empty for the holidays.”  
“Mmm,” Harry yawned at his plate.  
“Maybe you catch some sleep on the train?”  
“I’m fine.”  
“Coffee?”  
Harry shook his head and closed his eyes. Louis smiled. Harry did not like coffee.  
“So stubborn.”  
Harry made a face at him and sipped his tea.  
“Is it good?”  
“Really good.”  
“Well, enjoy while you can. You won’t find tea that well brewed anywhere else,” Louis attempted to kill their horrible mood with jokes. For now it seemed to work. But that always happened. Right before something really sad everything is absolutely fine, at the same time so much different. But in just a few hours-  
“And you enjoy your best porridge.”  
Louis snorted quietly.  
***  
They entered the station, Louis was carrying one of Harry’s bags, while Harry was dragging his suitcase, another bag on his shoulder. There was a small queue. Harry put his bags on his suitcase, turning his back on everybody else and facing Louis.  
“Curls.”  
“Lou.”  
“I’ll miss you,” Louis tried to smile. Farewells never went the way he wanted them to. At least because he never wanted a farewell in the first place. Louis hated losing people.  
“Me too,” quietly said Harry and reached out a hand. Louis entwined their fingers. “Lou?”  
“Curls?” his voice was barely audible.  
“I’ve got something for you.”  
Harry fished out a little box from his coat pocket.  
“Happy birthday, Lou. Sorry it’s too early.”  
“Thank you,” Louis said, still quietly, taking the present and letting go of Harry’s hand. “Thanks,” he said louder and looked Harry in the eyes.  
“Open that when you get home, okay?”  
“Yeah, thanks again,” Louis made the last step and hugged Harry. The latter hugged him back, so usually, so pleasantly, so warmly. Louis didn’t want to let him go, had he mentioned that? Louis didn’t want to realize that the time was going forward. Louis didn’t want to let Harry get on the train and go away for good. Louis didn’t know how long they had stayed like this, but the queue finally came to an end, and they had to part.  
“Thanks for everything, Curls. Don’t get lost, will you?”  
“I’ll see you,Thumbs.”  
“Bye, Curly.”  
Harry took his bags without looking at Louis, and the latter was looking at his feet. Soon Harry was on the train, waving at Louis from there. Nobody was smiling, however hard they tried to. Louis bit his lips and waved back. He went towards the exit, back first, until he couldn’t see Harry anymore. He got out on the road as if in fog. In less than an hour he was already climbing the steps back up to his flat. He had to pack his stuff and clean up the place. But first, Harry.  
He sat down on the sofa and took out the present. He took off the lid and saw a watch. A black wristlet, beige face, black figures and hands. He smiled and felt something hot in the corners of his eyes. Fucking pathetic you are, Tomlinson. He won’t cry. He took a calming deep breath and took them out. He turned them over in his hands and saw a neat engraving at the back. Louis raised them up to his eyes, trying to see past the tears.  
“All my love, H.”  
Louis tried to get his shit together and took out his phone.  
“Thanks, Curls xx”  
“You are always welcome, Thumbs”  
Louis smiled and hadn’t even put away the phone, when it buzzed again.  
“xxxxxxx”  
***  
Louis got onto his train home and took out his phone.  
“Curls?”  
“Lou”  
“You home? Alright?”  
“Yep, it’s all good. Did you like the present? xx”  
“You jokin?” Louis sent him a picture of his wrist.  
“Ohh, I’m glad :) On the train already?”  
“Yep. Gave the keys back right before leaving, didn’t manage to eat even :(”  
“You are welcome” there was a picture attached, of Harry’s plate full of food.  
“u wanker”  
“Alright, alright. I’m sorry. (No) xxx”  
“Shut up, will ya. My stomach is gonna sing for all the train to hear”  
“Shh, my mom is right beside me, don’t swear.”  
“Hey, Anna! I read a lot, drink occasionally, smoke a bit and now am writing a Phd in Literature”  
“You do know my mom ain’t Tinder, yeah? And she knows evth about u already”  
“Bla-bla-bla. Look at me, I’m Harry and I’m clever.”  
“Look at me, I’m Louis, and I’m angry”  
“I ain’t angry”  
“U r”  
“U r way too stubborn for your 24, Harold.”  
“U r way too tattooed for your twenty-almost-seven”  
“What? Where is the connection there?”  
“Oi, I didn’t tell u?”  
“What exactly?”  
“Spontaneity is my second name! xx”  
“Oi. Oi-oi. I think I almost saw my brains.”  
“Oi oi oi”  
“:p”  
“xxxxxxxxx”  
“Stop sending me kisses, Curles, i’m gonna blush now”  
“xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx. It’s on the cheek, don’t worry ;)”  
“Idiot. x. Alright, I think I’m gonna catch some sleep now”  
“Okay, text me when u home, yeah?”  
“Sure. Bon appetit. Say hi to ur mum, and to the rest as well x”  
“They say hi too:) G’night. G’day. Whatever. xx”  
***  
Previously Louis regretted that he was born on the Christmas Eve. He always got only one present for both and many actually forgot about his birthday and the congratulations came late. But now it meant that he got to spend almost every birthday with his family, since the day almost always fell on the holidays. Just like now, had only he and mom entered the house — six very beloved siblings rushed on to them.  
“Loooooou!”  
“Lou!”  
“Louie!”  
“Boo-bear!”  
“Lou-lou!”  
“Tommo!”  
“Hello, hello, Fibi!” Louis screwed his face when she kissed him on the cheek.  
***  
Louis flopped down onto his bed on the upper floor and flicked on the telly. It was deep into the night already, but he didn’t want to sleep. He felt so good after mom’s food, whole evening among his siblings, hot tea with a cake — he simply didn’t want to fall asleep and lose that feeling. Very soon his birthday would come. Louis fished out his phone and checked the time. Six minutes to midnight. The girls and Ernie were already sleeping, mom was probably too — he himself had seen the twins to sleep and then helped his mom clean up the kitchen. It was quite easy to forget about Harry at home. Harry.  
Louis snapped a picture of his feet, which Harry so often joked about, the telly in the background with some old cartoon on, and sent it to Harry with the capture,  
“Good night, Curls.”  
Louis stared at the screen for much longer than he’d ever admit to, but after three minutes of no answer he concluded that Harry was most likely sleeping too, exhausted after the early rise, and put his phone away. He put the cartoon on timer, turning the volume down to a minimum, and wrapped himself in the blanket, closing his eyes and remembering some very tattooed arms.  
His phone rang so soon, that Louis even gave a start. He answered the call without even looking, it was probably either Stan or Niall.  
“Lou?” said a low and slow voice, that had practically poured goosebumps down Louis’ back.  
“Harry!” he cried in whisper.  
“Happy birthday, Thumbs,” Louis could see Harry smiling to his dimples in his mind. Harry sounded very sleepy.  
“Tha-a-nk you.”  
“I didn’t wake you up, did I?”  
“Nope, I’ve just went to sleep.”  
“Who goes to bed before midnight before their birthday?”  
“I do?”  
Harry snorted.  
“So it makes me the first to congratulate you?”  
“Be proud. But you did it this morning, you idiot.”  
“Well, that was just a present,” Louis glanced at the watch on his bedside table.  
“Well, then you are first in every single regard.”  
“Haven’t the boys congratulated you yet?”  
“We’ll celebrate when we all get back. Maybe go to a club or summat, I dunno. Li said he’ll take it all on himself,” Louis ran his hand down his face.  
“Nice.”  
They kept silent for a few minutes — nobody wanted to hang up.  
“Lou?”  
“Curls?”  
“Could you turn the video on?”  
Louis felt the fear pouring inside. But it was just Harry. He took a deep breath and said.  
“You asked for it, I warn you. Beware I had like five hours of sleep, not more.”  
He pressed the button and closed one eye. His face appeared on the little screen in the right corner, lit up by the TV light. Harry laughed, and his face appeared on the whole screen moments after, all smiles and dimples. His hair fell onto his face and he looked so damn well.  
“Why it is that one can draw your portrait at like freaking midnight and after an early rise, and I just look like a sleep deprived hedgehog twenty-four seven?”  
“Sleep deprived hedgehog?” Harry laughed and looked down below, just like he always did. He ran his fingers through his hair, fluffing it up, and looked at Louis once again. “Hi, Lou.”  
“Curly,” Louis rolled over and rested his head on his bent arm.  
“Are you trying to seduce me with your biceps?”  
“If only I had biceps.”  
“Well.”  
“That is all? I thought that was the part where you say I’m the prettiest and biceps don’t mean a thing?”  
“You are the prettiest and biceps don’t mean a thing,” simply repeated Harry.  
“Thank you for your sincerity, mr. Potter.”  
“The fact that my name’s Harry, doesn’t make me a Potter, Weasley.”  
“I’m not even red-haired!”  
“And I don’t have glasses, so what?”  
“Don’t sulk, Curly. I know you like it. And you are his copy. Green eyes, crazy hair, witty.”  
“Remind me the chapter that said Harry had curls?”  
“There isn’t one?” Louis closed one eye and smiled apologetically. Harry only shook his head and smiled wider, if that was even possible.  
“How are you gonna celebrate?”  
“Well, first with family, and then Stan and Olly promised to prepare summat, guess we are going out to the club too.”  
“Lots of guests?”  
“I dunno,” he shrugged. “Last time it was only about twenty or thirty people — not that many.”  
“Not bad at all, is it?” smirked Harry.  
“What? I’m friendly.”  
“You?”  
“You doubt me?”  
“Me? You? Always.”  
Louis stuck out his tongue and Harry laughed. Louis felt bad from how much better that sound made him feel.  
“And what are your plans for tomorrow?”  
“Laying in my bed and eating my mom’s lagna.”  
“Ohh, so productive.”  
“Fuck productive.”  
“Wha-at? By the way, now you can always eat your mom’s food.”  
“Yep,” something flickered through his voice, but Louis didn’t catch that, so he decided not to ask.  
“Left me for take-aways.”  
“Well, you’ll learn how to cook. Or find yourself a new neighbour.”  
“No, I don’t wanna have another trauma at the end of the semester, thanks.”  
“Trauma?”  
“We don’t talk about it.”  
Harry smiled rather sadly. For a few minutes they were just watching each other on their little screens. Just like in real life, when they could sit beside each other without talking and be absolutely fine.  
“I miss you already.”  
“Me too, Lou.”  
“Good night?”  
“G’night. Call tomorrow? If you won’t be too drunk, of course.”  
“Screw you,” laughed Louis. “Sweet dreams, Curls. Hope you see lots of hedgehogs.”  
“Hedgehogs,” nodded Harry and waved at him. “Bye, Lou.”  
Louis waved at Harry and hung up. He exhaled and turned onto his back. Everything inside was thrilling, and Louis thought back to the day they became a bit closer probably for the first time. The day when he returned from Sam and then met up with Harry in the park. The time when they ate pizza and chocolate, and then talked about the stars. Louis looked at his phone screen and smiled. His wallpaper hadn’t changed ever since that day. Today, when his sisters spotted it, they started asking him questions.  
“Ohh, is he a singer, Lou?”  
“Aha. Harry Styles, ever heard of him?”  
“No-o.”  
“Well, shame on you. He sings pretty decently.”  
“Really? And what songs does he sing?”  
But at that moment Lottie rolled her eyes and hugged the twins by the shoulders, turning them away from Louis. The latter only smiled widely and nodded at her. She showed him her middle finger behind Fibi’s back, and Louis barked out a laugh. Lottie was completely his girl.  
His phone buzzed again and this time Louis was ready.  
“Tommo!”  
“Stan!”  
“Happy birthday!”  
***  
Louis opened his eyes and yawned widely. It was so warm under the blanket. He brought his knees up to his chest and coiled into an even tighter ball.  
“Rise and shine!” Lottie pushed him on the shoulder.  
“Lo-o-o-tie,” he moaned.  
“Happy birthday, Boo-bear,” she kissed him on the cheek, and Louis even opened his eyes in surprise.  
“Where is all this tenderness from, huh?”  
“Shut up,” she pulled his ear and Louis exhaled. “Get your arse up, mom is making pancakes for the birthday boy.”  
“Mmm,” Louis breathed in the tasty smell from the kitchen and smiled. “Can I get dressed?” Louis rolled over onto his back and propped himself on the elbows, wincing when the cold air touched his shoulders.  
“Do you want me to fetch your clothes?” Lottie was still sitting on his bed and looking at him.  
“Just give me a minute, Lo.”  
“Don’t you ‘Lo’ at me,” she showed him her tongue. “And I need to talk to you.”  
“Trouble with Patrik again?”  
“What? No,” she got up and pulled her hood over her head. She always did this when nervous.  
“Lotts?”  
“Lou?”  
“Lottie,” he repeated and sat up straight, reaching out for her. She put his clothes on his bedside table and sat down. She took his hand and sighed.  
“Now you’ll be completely honest with me, yeah?” she looked at him and smiled.  
“Pinky promise,” Louis nodded.  
“What’s up with you and Harry?”  
“What, you liked him?” he went for a joke. But he couldn’t play this game with Lottie. She saw him through and through.  
“Lou.”  
“Well, he’s gone. I told you already.”  
“Have you talked about him coming back?”  
“Nope,” Louis shook his head and started drawing little circles with his thumb on her knuckles. “He just gave me a watch and then we texted. And he called me at twelve to wish a happy birthday.”  
“This watch?” she glanced at his bedside table. Louis nodded. She took them and turned them over, as if she knew there was an engraving. “All my love, H. That’s cute.”  
“Lotts, what’s wrong?”  
“Are you quite sure you don’t want to go to him?”  
“But there are so many more opportunities back in London, and Harry’s uni is way smaller. And Zi, Nialler and Liam are all there. And I do like my job. And it’s close to you lot.”  
“You still come twice a year, you idiot.”  
“Lo.”  
“Alright, but- Maybe you guys talk it out? So you’ll at least know where you stand. You are just friends, yeah?”  
“Yep. And he is straight, I told you.”  
“But what if there’s something there. Lou, from what you’ve told me I think he does like you?”  
“Is that a question?” Louis smiled. “Harry always flirts. And almost everybody likes him.”  
“Lou.”  
“Okay, I’ll talk to him. Pancakes?”  
“Get dressed, don’t shame me,” she clapped him on the shoulder and left the room. Louis sighed and fluffed up his hair. He reached for the clothes, but glanced at his phone first. He bit his lips when he didn’t find anything from Harry among all the birthday wishes he got. On the other hand, they’ve talked just last night, and he could still be sleeping? And why would he text in the first place, if they planned to call later, right? Louis took another deep breath and got off the bed.  
***  
Stan kissed him on the temple and shove him in the shoulder. Louis clapped him on the back and got out of the taxi. There was a mix of cocktails and alcohols in his stomach, and a mix of wind, club scenes in his brains. He had to do something else?..  
He opened the doors and quietly entered the house. He locked the doors, took off his trainers and went into his room, following the walls for guidance. His girls and Ernie were already fast asleep, and he didn’t want to wake them up. It was about four in morning already, wasn’t it? Probably. Louis wasn’t sure of anything now. It was Christmas already. Christmas… Harry!  
He sank onto his bed and took out his phone. He scrolled down through all the birthday wishes again, when suddenly his eyebrows went up. He had three missed calls and a few texts from Harry.  
“How is the party going?” 1.32  
“Lou, you here?” 2.04  
“Lou-u, you alright? Text me when you home, okay?” 2.58  
Louis smiled and pressed the call button. Why text when you can call? He managed to yawn before Harry picked up.  
“Yes? Who-s-t?”  
“Thumb- Thumbelina,” Louis yawned another time and giggled.  
“Lou? Thank goodness, you home?” Harry seemed suddenly awake. Louis giggled even more and opened up the video. He cried in whisper,  
“Cu-u-u-urls! I opened the facetime!” Harry appeared on the screen moments later. He was frowning, his eyes and lips slightly puffy from the sleep. His hair was a complete mess, but when he saw Louis he smiled so big, his eyes reduced to slits.  
“Lou.”  
“Curls,” Louis yawned again. He rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes. Just one minute, he’ll get up and talk to Harry. The moon was shining right onto his face, but even this didn’t prevent him from falling asleep. Louis was laying across the bed, the phone propped up against his hand, his lips moving with every breath he took. Harry sniffled and smiled even wider. Nobody will know if he doesn’t turn off the call for a bit and just looks at Louis?  
He got under the blanket all the way with his head, placed his phone against another pillow and hugged his own pillow. Louis was so cute, and Harry was determined to ignore how often he had found Louis cute lately. A few minutes passed, and Harry himself had fallen asleep to the peaceful breathing of Louis.  
***  
Lottie entered Louis’ room and almost cried out his name to wake him up, but stopped. Louis was lying across the bed, legs hanging off the edge, his phone near him. She came closer to put the phone onto the bedside table and then wake him up. But on the screen she saw a sleeping Harry, hair down on his face, his thumb in his mouth. Lottie frowned but smiled. It was super odd, and rather cheesy to fall asleep on the phone, but taking into account Louis’ yesterday’s condition… Why didn’t Harry hang up though?  
She gently shook his shoulder, whispering, so as not to wake Harry up,  
“Lou.”  
“Mmm?”  
“Wake up.”  
“Lo-o-ttie.”  
“Harry’s on the phone.”  
“What?” Louis opened his eyes. “Harry?”  
“You- You slept together?”  
“‘the hell?”  
“Here,” she turned the screen towards him and Louis sat up.  
“Ah,” only said he. “I don’t remember anything.”  
“Did you call him though?”  
Louis tried to get through what he remembered from yesterday’s evening. And yes. Somewhere after the club, taxi and the staircase, there was Harry.  
“I think so?”  
“Well, you guys must have fallen asleep.”  
“On the phone.”  
“Yep.”  
“Disgusting.”  
Lottie just smiled and stroke his head.  
“If he wanted to hang up he would, yeah?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Lou.”  
Louis leant against her. She stroked his head one more time, then bent down and kissed his hair.  
“Let’s go eat. But first you gotta shower, ‘coz you smell, little brother.”  
“I love you too, Lotts.”  
***  
The Christmas went by in a swirl of presents, food and smiles. Every time Louis remembered that he and Harry had literally fallen asleep on the phone, his lips stretched up into a smile. Lottie only rolled her eyes at him, and he shrugged at the confused looks of his mom and siblings. Right after the breakfast, he texted Harry,  
“My head is splitting in two, Curls. But the thought that u suck on your thumb when u sleep warms my heart:)”  
“Screw you”  
The next day Louis drove to the centre. He went to several shops before he found what he was looking for. He spotted that necklace with the silver sun which had an empty centre and rather short rays. It looked exactly like something Harry would wear, and it frankly reminded Louis of Harry, so he took it. He asked for an engraving in the empty centre, and it was a pretty immature one, but he thought Harry would like it.  
***  
Louis left his house at noon, gently closing the door behind. He went down a familiar path towards Stan’s house. The latter opened the doors after five minutes of Louis’ knocking, barely opening his eyes.  
“It’s midday you prat, wake up!” Louis clapped his shoulder and went inside.  
“You are never up before two in the afternoon, you bastard.”  
“Times change, get dressed, let’s go somewhere.”  
Stan wailed, among which Louis made out a few not very polite words, but went into his room nonetheless. They walked out in the street a few minutes later, Stan squinting his eyes from the light.  
“Why go somewhere so early?”  
“Why drink so late?”  
“Hey, you, mr. Right, if you stopped going out, don’t spoil it for others,” Stan pushed him on the shoulder, and Louis laughed, uneasy.  
“You know I can’t drink as much now.”  
“Oi, it’s rubbish. You are just scared you gonna call Harry when drunk again?”  
Louis didn’t answer and Stan woke up completely.  
“Lou? You alright mate?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Tommo.”  
“Stan?”  
“Tommo, what’s wrong?”  
“I’m- I’m like craving something,” he tried out a new word. “It wasn’t that bad even after Sam. I always want Harry to be near me.”  
“But you will see each other some time, won’t ya?”  
“Yes, but- We haven’t talked about it. And now the work will start and we won’t have time at all with all them projects and stuff, and- I think he’d just forget me and grow out of it. We're only friends anyways.”  
“Hey. What you see is your point of view. You don’t know what happens inside his head, do you. One morning you wake up and he is on the threshold demanding his brekkie.”  
“Sure.”  
“Lou, don’t panic yet, alright? There hasn’t even been a week of you guys apart. Calm down. It’s too early to even do something about it. Relax and enjoy your holidays.”  
“Yeah. Yeah, you right.”  
“At the very least you can go to him yourself. Maybe they’ll have a place in their uni for you?”  
“Yeah, but London offers much more opportunity and the boys are there. And Harry lives with his parents, and I’m just a friend, it would be proper odd if I just show up and work there just to be closer to Harry.”  
“Have you tried talking?”  
“Stan, he is straight,” Louis sighed tiredly. Why did he have to explain such obvious things again and again? Stan fluffed up his hair.  
“Tommo, relax. Too early to panic, plus it’s useless. You’ll regret you’ve spent your holidays being sad about Harry when you could’ve enjoyed your time with the family. Come on, be happy for once. You haven’t seen the girls and Ernie for half a year.”  
Louis made himself smile.  
“Yeah, sorry. Thanks, Stanny.”  
“Stanny? Last time you called me that we were like what? Twelve?”  
***  
During the second week of the holidays, when Louis was already packing, Harry called him. Louis was surprised — they haven’t called ever since the Christmas night, they’ve been just texting.  
“Curls?”  
“Louuuuu!” Harry was practically squealing into the phone. Louis’ heart skipped a bit — was Harry coming back?! “Lou, thank you, thank you, thank you!”  
“What for?” happiness disappeared as quickly as it came, despite the joyful voice on the other side.  
“For the necklace! Thanks, it’s amazing. “See you, Curls”. Thanks, Lou-u-u!”  
Louis smiled and could have sworn Harry was smiling to the deepest dimples. He felt warm inside and sighed.  
“Well, now I hope you will come through for sure?”  
“As if I intended not to,” Harry tried to sound offended, but Louis could still hear his smile. “Thanks again.”  
“Stop. Now we are square.”  
“Don’t you tell me you did it only because of the watch.”  
“Well, let’s say you gave me the idea of an engraving.”  
“Lazy arse you are.”  
“But you like it.”  
“Idiot. What are you doing?”  
“Packing. Going home tomorrow.”  
“So early?” Louis could hear panic in his voice. Why though? “Today’s only Thursday.”  
“Well, yeah, but I wanted some time to settle down and stuff, prepare for the classes.”  
“You? Preparing for classes?”  
“Alright, alright, they are throwing my birthday party at the club tomorrow.”  
“This is my Louis,” Harry chortled, and Louis felt goosebumps whatever time it was, from the words “my Louis”. “Don’t drink too much,” Louis knew that although Harry said it rather off-handed, he did worry.  
“Don’t worry, Curls, I’ve already lived through our break up on my mom’s cakes.”  
“Oh-h-h, somebody got fat.”  
“You wish. I’m fabulous as always.”  
“Yeah, mom!” cried Harry to his side. “Lou, sorry, I gotta go. I’ll text you when I’m back?”  
“Sure, bye, Curls.”  
“See you, Lou.”  
Louis hung up and sat down on the edge of his bed. He felt the happiness inside melting second by second. Harry wasn’t coming back. Louis didn’t even realize how much he wanted to hear those three words from Harry. But the call as if made it firm. Time to put up with it.  
The holidays had passed, and now, sitting in his small childhood room Louis realized how long those weeks had lasted. When Harry wasn’t around, the time stretched like treacle. Slowly and boring, but only for Louis. He did like the holidays — family, friends, homeplace. But he couldn’t stop thinking of how much he wanted to bring Harry here. Every time he passed some place that had a memory tied to it, he caught himself wanting to show it to Harry. And the latter would nod in all the right places, frowning where Louis broke his arm, shaking his head where he had his first fight, hiding his face behind his hand where Louis first kissed a girl. Louis sighed again. Living without Harry was exceptionally boring.


	11. chapter 11

Louis got off his train in London, fixed the bag on his shoulder and went towards the tube. He winced from the cold air and sank his head further down into his scarf. The tube was half empty. The school would start in two days, and Louis so didn’t want to get back into the routine after the long and warm holidays with his family. However much he could pretend he was an adult, there was no better feeling than coming back home where you are loved and wanted. Or was there? Thoughts of curly hair and green eyes started penetrating his mind, but he shook his head. The man across from him frowned, ungluing his eyes from his newspaper. Really? Somebody still read newspapers these days?  
Louis got out on his station, walked a few blocks down the street and finally reached home. He turned the key in the door and breathed out. He got in, put his bag near the hanger and looked around. It felt so odd to come back not to the sounds of cooking and low humming to 80s songs, but to the dead silence of the flat.  
Louis walked past Harry’s room (he really should stop calling it that) and stopped dead in his trucks. Had Harry left balloons on the sofa?..  
“Happy birthday!” cried out Niall, and Louis got swept by hugs. Very soon he was hugged by many more pairs of arms, and his ears were defeaned by all the shouting and congratulations. He laughed and clapped the back of the person he was hugging — Zayn? Liam? It was hard to tell right now. The room was full of people that before it were hiding God knows where. There were a few people from the uni, Jamie from the singing school, a few mutual friends they often met in the club and even Stan and Olly!  
“How the hell did you get here?” Louis couldn’t hide his huge smile.  
“Two parties are better than one, ain’t it?” Stan handed him a glass of champagne. “To you, Tommo!”  
All the rest raised their glasses, and Louis, with probably the reddest face he ever had, raised his as well. Niall turned on the music, somebody brought the food from the kitchen, and the hell broke loose.  
“Do you like it, Lou?” Liam came up to him, and smiled apologetically.  
“You kiddin’ me? It’s amazing. Thanks, Payno!” Louis hugged him again. “I just wasn’t expecting that. Thought we were to go to the club?”  
“Well, that was part of the plan.”  
“To distract you,” winked Zayn, who had just come up.  
“We endeavoured,” said Niall. “But you haven’t seen the cake yet, Tommo,” Niall closed his eyes and swinged his head dreamily.  
“Hey, no spoilers,” said Liam.  
Louis snorted and went to other people. They kept changing, wishing him happy birthdays and making small conversations here and there. There was quite a pile of presents in the corner, which Louis was pretty happy about. Who didn’t like presents?  
The smile didn’t go off his face all evening, especially when he saw Stan. He didn’t yet have an opportunity to connect that part of his life with this one, but up till now it seemed to go really well. Stan and Olly fitted just fine, and Niall seemed to almost die laughing at Stan’s jokes. Some time ago, when they were finishing the school, Stan had huge problems. He and Louis were always quite open to experiment, and weed wasn’t a rare guest at the parties they went to. But at some point Stan had decided he was ready for a more serious shit. When he offered to try that “serious” to Louis, the latter made such a scandal out of it, that he didn’t even think Stan would still want to try it. And then one day Louis came to pick him up for school and found him in the kitchen. He was unconscious, white “seriousness” was all over the table. He called the ambulance, spent his whole day in the hospital with Stan, waiting for him to come round. They all kept calming him down that Stan was quite young and strong, would be able to deal with it. But the only thought that kept running through Louis’ mind was that he was about to lose his only friend. They knew absolutely everything about each other — they still did. Stan couldn’t- he couldn’t- And then they came and said he could visit him. Louis thought his hair would turn grey after that day. But then he saw Stan, still very pale, but eyes bright and healthy.  
“Tommo.”  
“Stan.”  
Louis spent the rest of that afternoon sitting beside his bed and holding his hand. Soon Stan fell asleep and Louis’ mom came. She called Stan’s parents and explained what had happened, and Louis was so thankful she did it for him. And then his parents burst into the room, and Louis and his mom left. He visited Stan every single day, and when he got out, he followed him like a shadow. Louis got very attached to people, and wasn’t intend on letting go of them that easily. Nobody ever mentioned drugs again, but many jokes were said since then about how caring Louis can get.  
“Tommo.”  
“Stan?”  
“How is it going? Got here alright?”  
“Yep. Thanks for coming, by the way.”  
“Drop it, only for our own good,” he winked and raised his beer bottle up. “To you, Lou.”  
Louis rumpled his hair up and Stan smiled. Louis went into the kitchen to take some beer from the fridge — couldn’t find any in the room (the perks of having an Irish friend, he thought). He came closer to the window and looked out onto the snowy street. Even though the holidays had ended, the feel of a fairy-tale was still in the air. The streets were still decorated with Christmas lights, the stars made everything look softer, and the snow glowed in all the possible colours. Even people’s clothing was all funny. Right below his window a girl in an enormous winter jacket walked towards a bloke in a plain black coat and a crazy green hat with a pompom on it. Louis smiled and shook his head. He stood by the window for a minute more, then remembered what he came for, took the beer out of the fridge, and left the kitchen.  
He was about to enter the room, when the main doors opened and somebody very tall and in a very-very green hat with a pompom entered the flat. Harry shook the snow from off his shoulders and took off his ridiculous hat, fluffing up his curls. He looked at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair, then opened the closet and hang his coat there. Only when Harry bent down to undo his shoes did Louis notice his enormous suitcase and two bags.  
“I’m not disturbing you, am I?” asked Louis, standing in exactly the same position, half turned towards the room with people. Harry froze with a shoe in his hand and looked up. For about a minute they were just looking at each other. Louis could hear his every breath.  
“Hello?” finally smiled Harry.  
“I conclude you are the main surprise of the party then?” Louis still couldn’t make himself move. The fact that Harry was standing right now in the corridor, just like he did for the last half a year, was simply ridiculous. Louis ain’t gonna believe it, thankyouverymuch.  
“I conclude I failed?” Harry smiled wider and straightened up completely. He had on a black sweater, black skinnies and black socks. So plain it was strange. “Will you come to the exhibition with me tomorrow?”  
Such a weird question threw Louis completely off that thin thread of thoughts that had just managed to tie this whole mess of a day into one and made him realize that Harry, it seemed, came back for good.  
“Exhibition?”  
“Aha. The main gallery, impressionists and post-impressionists. There will be Gauguin and Van Gogh, Gemma got two tickets for me for my birthday.”  
“But it’s in February,” only said Louis. He finally managed to make his body turn to face Harry.  
“If you don’t hug me right now I’m gonna fall,” said Harry really fast and took a step forward, spreading his arms wide.   
Louis didn’t need to be told twice. He ended the distance between them and threw his arms around Harry.  
“Curls.”  
Harry mumbled something back and took a deep, deep breath, hugging Louis so tight that the latter got off the floor. Louis was still holding his beer bottle, which was pressing rather painfully against Harry’s back, but he didn’t seem to mind.  
“Curly, can you put the beer somewhere?” Louis, without leaning back, tried to give Harry the bottle behind his back. Harry put it onto the drawer with their shoes. “Thanks.”  
“You are always welcome.”  
Louis didn’t have to look at Harry to know he had his dimples on.  
“Harry is here!” shouted Niall from somewhere, and Louis felt how Harry had carefully dropped him onto the floor again. They turned and saw Niall, Liam and Zayn coming their way. Harry hugged everyone with one arm, not withdrawing his other one from Louis’ shoulders.  
“Got here alright?”  
“Yeah, thanks.”  
“You all knew?” Louis screwed up his eyes at their happy faces. Niall’s smile faltered and he mumbled,  
“You do like it, Tommo?”  
“You are a bunch of-”  
“Harry?” Olly got out of the room and came up to them.  
“Olly?” Harry politely gave his hand to Olly and smiled when he shook it. “Nice to meet you.”  
“Do I hear Harry’s name?”  
“My goodness,” only murmered Louis when he saw Stan getting into the corridor too.  
“The Harry?” he kept on. Harry squeezed Louis’ shoulder and gave Stan his hand, but he went for hugs.  
“Sta-a-n,” wailed Louis, disentanging himself from Harry so that he could give Stan a proper hug back.  
“Nice to meet you?” tried Harry.  
“You joking! I’ve heard so much about ya, mate. Finally saw you. When the boys said you were coming-”  
“Even freaking Stan knew and I didn’t?”  
“Excuse me, ‘freakin Stan’?” he looked at Louis, frowning. “You have anything against our main surprise you wanker?”  
“Oi, shut up,” Louis shoved him in the shoulder and smiled. Stan shook his head, smiling too, took Olly and Niall by the arm and pulled them into the room.  
“Let the newbies have their time together,” he murmered.  
“Stanly!”  
“Shh,” he hissed, already entering the room. Zayn and Liam followed them, closing the doors. Zayn had his stupid smile on once again.  
“Will you take me back in then?”  
“Shut it. You hungry?”  
“Am starving. Haven’t had anything since morning.”  
“Let’s go to the kitchen, there is lots of food and quiet.”  
“Thanks,” only said Harry and sniffled funnily.   
When they sat at the table, Harry eating, Louis couldn’t keep his eyes off him.  
“So you are back to our uni then?”  
“Yep,” Harry kept eating and eating, trying to insert words in-between. “I- I wrote a letter after New Years- to make sure there wasn’t a place. Before the holidays they said there wasn’t- But I decided to get to them- At least part time.”  
“A-a-nd?” squeezed Louis past the warmth inside. Harry wanted a place here. With Louis.  
“I think I really have annoyed them, so they agreed to share the current professor’s hours with me. I agreed.”  
“But you’ll be paid less then?”  
Harry raised his finger, made a heroic swallow, and continued,  
“Gemms said the exact same thing.”  
“I swear she is like your manager or something,” Louis smiled.  
“Almost,” Harry smiled back. “But I’ve already made up my mind about coming, and she agreed. And then they emailed me that the professor from here agreed to move to Manchester full time, so to my place. So now I’m working just like the last semester. The one and only.”  
“You wrote them here asking?” Louis handed him the bread.  
“Thanks. Yeah, I said I missed you, didn’t I.”  
“And didn’t mention a word to me.”  
“I wanted to surprise you,” Harry smiled, blushing a bit and threw a bit of bread into his mouth.  
“Tea?”  
“Yepp. Then I texted Niall, I remembered you said they were throwing a party. I thought it would be nice if we could surprise you.”  
“And those-”  
“Friends.”  
“Yes. Agreed?”  
“Yep. But there weren’t any good tickets left, so I came later than you did. We planned that I creep into the middle of the party and give you the cake, but screwed up as always,” Harry smiled apologetically.  
“Why here though? You said Gemma’s found you several other unis?”  
“First of all, they are boring. Secondly, I don’t like new places. Thirdly, I have everything here.”  
“Everything?”  
“You, Nialler, the rest. Feels good around y’all, Lou. And somebody needs to cook for you,” he added. Louis shook his head and put a steaming cup in front of him. “Thanks.”  
“Yeah, yeah, you came just for cooking.”  
Harry didn’t say anything — he only smiled into his tea.  
“You tired? Wanna sleep or?-”  
“You joking? There are so many people, I won’t be able to fall asleep.”  
Louis frowned, and Harry snorted.  
“I’m kidding. Let’s go see them people, it’s your party after all,” Harry got up, a cup of tea in his right hand, his left resting on Louis’ shoulder.  
***  
“See you Monday, Tommo!” Niall hugged him tightly and left a sloppy kiss on his cheek.  
“Come on, you drunkie,” Liam pulled him by the shirt and shook Harry’s hand. “See ya, Lou.”  
“Text me when you home? All of you.”  
“Sure.”  
“Bye, Lou,” Zayn seemed to like hugs too, when he was drunk. Louis squeezed him tightly. “Happy birthday,” was someone falling asleep now?  
“Why is it always me, huh,” murmered Liam not unkindly and tore Zayn off Louis, holding him straight up with his hand around his waist. Too bad Gigi couldn’t come. Niall was already waiting for them at the end of the stairs. Louis closed the doors when he saw all three of them got out safely, and turned towards Harry.  
“Can you help me with cleaning it all?”  
“Sure.”  
“If you are tired, I can do it on my own.”  
“‘is fine.”  
About half an hour later they sank into the sofa, which had never been that soft before. They weren’t able to move anymore, exhausted, every bone crying for a bit of sleep. But they were satisfied they’d wake up to a clean flat, except for a few rubbish-bags by the entrance.  
“Curls?”  
“Mmm?” Harry’s eyes were already closed.  
“Can I stay here? I don’t think I-”  
“Yes.”  
Louis turned his head and saw Harry, legs wide open, head hanging back, his eyes closed and mouth half-open. Louis giggled, although he himself must have looked no better.  
“Wha’?” weakly said Harry.  
“You funny,” Louis closed his eyes and fell asleep almost at once.  
***  
Louis woke up and sat on the sofa, leaning on his elbows against the knees. It seemed he hadn’t moved a bit during the night. His neck was numb as ever and he winced when he tried to move his head. Louis looked to the right and saw Harry, coiled up with his knees up to his chest, his head resting on the arm-rest, his hands under his cheek. He slept like a baby. Louis stretched and got up. He really wanted some water, and needed to go pee, but first he had an idea. He opened one of the drawers and took out Harry’s old blanket. He came up to Harry again and covered that impossibly tall baby, tucking him in. Harry mumbled something, getting comfortable, and Louis smiled. Harry closed his mouth and Louis spotted saliva on his sleeve.  
“Jeez, you are disgusting,” he whispered and put a loose strand behind Harry’s ear.  
“No more than you are,” mumbled Harry and went back to asleep as if nothing happened.  
Louis felt another cup of tea turned over inside. When he entered the room again, with about a litre of water inside and two cups of tea in his hands, Harry sat right up and looked around.  
“Curls.”  
“Thanks,” he took his cup. “Thumbs, what time is it?”  
“Ten.”  
“So early?”  
“Aha,” Louis took a sip. The shower freshened him up and now he could think straight again. “What exhibition were you talking about, by the way?”  
But Harry only put his cup on the table and ran out of the room, shouting on his way,  
“Front pocket in me bag!” and a second later the toilets door shut behind him. Louis shook his head, and rummaged through Harry’s bag. He finally fished out two tickets. The exhibition was to start at seven that night, just like the one with the sculpture. Was Louis having a dejavu?  
“At seven? Van Gogh?”  
“Yeah! Lou, I’m off to the shower, okay?” Harry came back and was looking for clothes in his suitcase.  
“High time you do, you stink, you know.”  
“Oi, oi, sorry, mr. Clean.”  
Louis put the tickets on the edge of the table and went back to his tea. He managed to finish his cup when Harry came back.  
“What about breakfast?”  
“Porridge?”  
“If you please.”  
Harry just nodded, finished his cup in one huge gulp and left the room.  
“Thumbs!”  
“Oi!”  
“We ain’t got any food.”  
“We don’t?” Louis entered the kitchen and frowned. “Oh, yeah. I was gonna go shopping yesterday, but the party started, so.”  
“Let’s go?”  
“Yep. But let’s eat somewhere first, shall we?”  
“That coffee shop on the corner down the street?”  
“With the chocolate cake? Count me in.”  
***  
Harry kept dragging Louis here and there all night — from one artist to the other. Not that Louis minded it that much, but he was never really into art. At least to the extent that Harry was. The latter stood for a good few minutes before each one, looking at the smallest prints of the brush.  
“You see, the characteristic of the era was that the colours got mixed right in the picture itself. I mean to say they are absolutely clean and bright, you merge them in your eye, depending on what colours the artist put near that one.”   
Louis kept mumbling something in response, making as if he was just as interested. The only thing he would probably never get tired of seeing is Harry who was so passionate about it. He was ready to sit there and listen for his lectures on Art day in day out, just to be near and see him in his element. And when Louis caught his wave and could draw parallels with other artists, when he started understanding some random jokes where Harry referenced them, the latter was practically beaming.  
“Are you hungry?” suddenly asked Harry halfway through the evening.  
“A bit.”  
“Alright, I think we can go now. I wanna eat too.”  
“But the paintings?”  
“We’ve seen everything.”  
Louis frowned. They hadn’t seen even half of them.  
“I mean I saw everything I wanted to.”  
“Are you quite sure?”  
“Yep. Let’s go,” Harry grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the exit.  
“Alright then,” Louis again remembered the only other exhibition he and Harry had went to. “Whatever you say, big boy.”  
They got home and Harry went to the kitchen to heat up their dinner. Louis brought the glasses into the room, flicked on some romcom and sat cross-legged on the sofa. Harry came soon after, food in his hands and flopped down beside him.  
Harry took his glass of wine, passing Louis the other one. He could feel the cold glass warming up under his fingers. They clinked their glasses and Louis smiled sheepishly. Harry took his first sip and felt the pleasant warmth spreading down his throat right after the wine.  
“D’you like it?” asked Louis.  
“Not bad,” nodded Harry.  
“I used to buy that one quite often before,” added Louis, not really knowing what for. Harry smiled and nodded again. He hadn’t regretted his coming back for a single second.  
“Lou?”  
“Curls?”  
“I wanted to tell you something,” Harry put his glass onto the floor and turned to face Louis. He kept gathering his thoughts while Louis watched him.  
“Harry?” he reminded him gently.  
The latter took a very deep breath.  
“A long time ago I was really into boys,” he didn’t know why but he suddenly felt the need to tell Louis about it. As far as Harry knew his own life, he never quite had a friend like Louis, and maybe Louis would feel better if he’d know Harry gets him on the whole other level. Harry had thought about it a lot during the holidays. Strangely enough, Harry himself felt better when he said it.  
“But you yourself said you liked girls. You are straight,” frowned Louis.  
“Yeah, but- Earlier I-”  
Louis took the remote control and turned the volume of the TV down. He got back and sat facing Harry completely this time. Harry felt awkward and vulnerable. But as Louis always says, in for a penny, in for a pound. He took a few gulps of wine and put the glass back down. Taking a millionth deep breath, he started again,  
“When I was fourteen I noticed I liked one of my friends. We were in my group together and he was our drummer,” Harry’s lips formed into a small smile at the memory. He swallowed and continued, looking at Louis’ shoulder instead of his eyes, “I kept shaking it off. We were friends, I kept telling myself. Best friends, nothing more. We just spent way too much time together, that was why. But day by day I was realizing it wasn’t quite like that. I wanted to spend way more time with him than with others. We started hanging out together, just us two, a lot. I had no idea whether he was gay or no, so I couldn’t figure out if I should tell him about how I feel, you know. Then I decided it was better if I tell my family first. When I came home that day it was empty, my folks were both working and Gemms was at school. And I kept thinking what they would say when I “come out”,” Harry made quotes in the air. “I was afraid mom would think I’m nuts and give me away to the hospital or something,” he smiled sadly and ran his hand through his hair. He noticed Louis’ hand that covered his. His fingers were soft and warm. Harry’s hand was forming a fist, which he hadn’t even noticed. So Harry relaxed his hand and Louis squeezed his fingers. He still couldn’t bring himself to look Louis in the eye, but he could feel his gentle stare. “Yeah, and I got so stuck in my head that day, I didn’t even realize I was crying. You see, I was always always very close to my family, still am actually, and if they didn’t accept me, I-” he exhaled noisily and sniffled. “But then mom came and she said I was silly, and kept stroking my back and hugging me, trying to calm me down. Then together we told everything to Gemms and Robin. And it was all good. Few weeks later I told Mark and we started dating. It all went so well, I can’t believe it now sometimes. Then we broke up, it just kinda wore off to nothing, you know how that shit goes. Then I entered my uni and there I met a girl I really fell for,” Harry took a deep breath and finally looked at Louis. There was so much pain in his eyes, just for a few seconds, but that was enough for Harry.  
“You did a good job, Harry,” he said quietly. “Thanks for telling me,” Louis smiled weakly and squeezed his fingers again. Harry opened his palm and covered Louis hand with his other one. It was so small compared to his own. He felt the need to protect Louis. It’s just he didn’t know who from. He felt like he had just hurt Louis now.  
“Lou.”  
“It’s alright.”  
“Lou, I’m- I just came to believe I was straight. It was way easier.”  
Harry again didn’t know why he said it. That truth hit even him hard. It was easier. Was easier to think of himself as straight, than to be honest with himself. Louis just nodded and dropped his head.  
“And what about now?” he said quietly and raised his head again, looking Harry in the eyes. “Is it easier to pretend now too?”  
Those eyes were the brightest blue Harry had ever seen. There was so much pain and hope, sympathy and judgement in them. Harry saw so many emotions at once for the first time in his life. So many that Harry couldn’t help it.  
Later, when Louis tried to remember how it all happened, he could say exactly who started the kiss. He only remembered that he was looking Harry in the eye and next thing he knew his drunk lips were on his own. Harry pressed on him, pushing him into the sofa’s backrest; Harry was practically sitting in his lap. Louis could hear his low, almost animal-like growl. He could feel a long forgotten warmth pouring over his own insides, that started somewhere at the bottom of his belly and crept up in slow and hot snakes up his veins, until all his skin was burning with Harry’s touch. At some point he let his hand run through Harry’s soft curls and leant forward, demanding more. Harry’s lips were soft, and he tasted like wine and salt. Was it just Louis, or had a bunch of galaxies just blown up?  
Moments later he felt Harry’s long cold fingers sliding down his back, frantically looking for the hem of his turtle-neck. Two more seconds — and the cold of the fingers was right on the hot skin of his back. Louis dropped one of his hands, feeling for Harry’s buttons, and started unbuttoning his shirt. Finally opening it up, he ran his fingers down his pecs, slowly, enjoying every second of it.  
When his fingers reached the bottom of Harry’s torso and ran along the skin above his belt, Harry tore off, as if somebody’d just poured a bucket of ice-cold water over him. He looked at Louis, terrified. Nine beats of Louis’ heart they were looking at each other, breathing heavily, Louis feeling his arousal melting away along with the happiness that filled him ever since their lips collided. His galaxies blew down to vacuum. Emptiness.  
“Harry, I-” Louis started, but the latter jumped off him and flew out of the room. Louis felt a big fat nothing. Emptiness so absolute it almost swallowed him whole.


	12. chapter 12

Louis wasn’t running after him, and Harry was exceptionally grateful for that. He somehow managed to get into his shoes, took his coat off the hanger and flew out the room. He sped down the stairs and seconds later entered the cold winter air, which burnt his face and stomach. Harry looked down and saw an opened shirt. He winced from how dirty that made him feel. He buttoned it all the way up and closed his coat over it. Folding his arms over his chest he went down the street, not really knowing where to. The streets were absolutely empty, a memory from his very first day in the uni came up,  
“ ‘I like to walk around the city in the nighttime, when everybody is sleeping.’  
‘Isn’t it scary?’  
‘It is romantic.’  
It wasn’t romantic at all! It was sad, painful, offending and terrible to realize in your twenty four that you don’t know yourself at all. Sometimes, before the holidays, he thought that if he hadn’t had to leave, he would just tell Louis how he felt about him and it would all be wonderful. But it just wasn’t. It turned out accepting himself was much harder than he thought it would. He once again felt like a fourteen year old, messed up and lost. All because of Louis.  
“Louis, Louis, Louis,” he found himself muttering. Pictures buzzed his head.  
Louis laughing very hard, his eyes reduced to slits, crinkles around them. He clapped his own thigh with his hand, sending his cup with tea all over the carpet. A good fat part of his freshmens’ assignments was now all smelling of jasmine tea. He kept giggling when he got up and ran off to the kitchen to fetch a towel. Harry remembered his smile wouldn’t go off his face all the way of disattaching the papers from each other and handing them to Harry to dry and but on the windowsills.  
One time he and Louis got into the rain, and Louis gave Harry his beanie, while he himself pulled up his hood. They ran through all the puddles, getting into the dirty water themselves, and splashing some on the passers by. At some point the thunder started. Harry felt Louis snatching his hand and looked his way. Louis was looking forward, his face hid behind the hood. Was Louis afraid of thunderstorms? Harry remembered the faint smile that touched his lips at the realization, but then Louis pulled his arm and they ran as fast as they could in the sleek streets of London. When they flew up the stairs towards Louis’ flat, Harry was already breathing hard. Louis rummaged through his pockets, looking for the keys. He opened the doors and let Harry in first.  
“You alright?” he asked then, throwing his bag onto the floor and getting rid of his shoes.   
Harry came up to the mirror and looked at himself. His usually black skinnies turned greyish brown at the bottom. His shoes were on the whole other level. Even the hem of his coat was dotted in dirt, not talking about the damp shoulders and hair that was sticking out from the hat. His fingers were red from the wind and knuckles white. To “alright” he was still missing at least a cup of tea.  
“Screw you footie players with all your workouts,” said Harry, taking off his coat and hanging it the hook. He took Louis’ jacket and hang it beside his own. He took off his shoes and looked at his socks. “And I don’t like rains,” he mumbled.  
Louis smiled and said,  
“Go to the room then, I’ll bring some tea.”  
Or another time, Harry entered the kitchen in the morning and spotted Louis in front of the fridge, hand on the hip. He had nothing on except for blue boxers. Harry stopped dead in his trucks then, because before it Louis had never really been naked in front of him. The only time was right after the club, when Harry was fighting between the feeling of disgust towards the drunk Louis, and sympathy towards Louis he had yet to get to know. Louis had a bit of a belly, which didn’t at all “spoil” his body. On the contrary, a six-pack wouldn’t have looked good with his meaty thighs. Over his chest there was a tattoo of “It Is What It Is”. His arms weren’t big or bulky, but they looked quite strong with very well seen veins, which made Harry swallow hard. Louis was so pretty. He kept standing there, yellow light of the fridge swallowing him, his hand on his neck, still unaware of Harry.  
“Khem,” Harry said. Louis startled and closed the fridge.   
“Curls? Why are you up so early?”  
“Well, I just fell asleep early.”  
Their voices were still husky from sleep, and, Merlins socks, Harry couldn’t help admitting that Louis was so damn sexy in the mornings.  
“Blue suits you,” Harry nodded and smirked.  
Louis frowned and followed Harry’s gaze down. When he realized he was before Harry almost naked, his eyes opened completely — no trace of slumber in them.  
“Screw you, Curly,” he murmered passing Harry by. Harry reached and slapped him on his bum lightly. The latter stopped immediately. He turned slowly on his tippy toes and took two steps towards Harry, so that now they didn’t even have a three inches of air between them. Harry smelled sweat and the remnants of Louis’ perfume — pine and salt. Louis put his hands on his hips and looked at Harry, challenge and fire in his eyes.  
“What do you think you are doing, Harry Styles?”  
“My sincerest apologies, mr. T.”  
Louis did try to frown for another half a minute, but then his lips started trembling and he barked out a laugh.  
“Mr. T?” he was still laughing. “Cu-u-rls,” he kept laughing and grabbed Harry’s forearm. He looked at Harry, still giggling, and Harry was just looking back, not trying to conceal his smile. The laughter wore off, but they were still standing there, two idiots, Louis holding onto Harry’s arm for support, and smiling at each other. Louis reached out with his free hand and tuck a few loose strands behind Harry’s ear. Harry let himself lean into the touch for a mere second, before reminding himself they were only friends. So naturally, he raised his own hand and rumpled up Louis’ hair, pulling him closer in. Friends do hug, don’t they? Louis pressed his cheek against Harry’s shoulder and got his hands behind his back, carefully, as if afraid Harry would disappear, placed both his palms flat there. Harry dropped his hand from his hair and hugged him by the shoulders, hugging him with the second one as well. Louis was so small in his arms. Harry felt his fingers drawing little circles at the bottom of his back. He could hear the rain behind the window. Somewhere in the corridor the clock beat the quiet rhythm. The only sound inside the room was their calm breathing. They stood like that for about a minute, and then Harry unwillingly broke the silence, murmuring into Louis’ hair,  
“Thumbs?” he was almost whispering.  
“Mmm?”  
“Breakfast?”  
“Aha,” Louis sighed heavily and tore off Harry, trying to avoid his gaze. He left the room and Harry could breathe again. Soon Louis came back in loose shorts, still without a tee on. When Harry turned around to the sound of bare feet on the kitchen tiles, his own shorts flew right into his face.  
“Dress up, Curls, don’t embarrass me.” Harry rolled his eyes and pulled on the shorts.  
“Better?”  
“Definitely.”  
The thoughts in his head were confusing him, and skin, which was still very hot after Louis’ touches and kisses, reminded him of what Harry had felt there. He got horny. He wanted to jump Louis there and then. The second time in his life he got an arousal from a guy. And this somehow scared him. He turned another corner, leant against the wall and slid down.  
He was bisexual, after all? He remembered Louis, from about a thousand years ago it felt, talking about his coming out crisis and accepting he was gay. Then he remembered his own story. That was some evil irony. What if it was just a good old mistake? He did enjoy his time with girls, didn’t he? Their kiss seemed to have determined for Harry that he wasn’t “normal”. No chance. And all his life he was only respectful towards such people. But to realize he was not somebody he always thought he was — that was disturbing, to say the least.  
Harry raised his head and looked up at the sky. A clear, starry sky. Ice-cream. White chocolate. Galaxies. Emptiness.  
He pulled his knees up to his chest and winced. He felt tears flooding his eyes. Louis’ words about “typical” gays came to mind.  
He took a deep breath and felt someone’s hand on his back. At first he even thought it was him daydreaming of Louis again, but then he heard the actual familiar voice,  
“Shh, it’s alright,” Louis dropped beside him and hugged Harry. Harry sniffled and rested his head on his shoulder. That was the same Louis he had spent all his nights with, after all. And came back to. And kissed.  
“Lou, what’s wrong with me? I-” he sniffled again, and immediately hated himself for it.  
“Shh, it’s okay, nothing’s wrong. Let’s go home,” Louis kept stroking his back, in an attempt to help Harry calm down. His voice sounded oddly distant. Galaxies? Emptiness.  
Harry finally nodded and they got up. When they entered the flat, Harry winced again, and Louis offered,  
“Tea?”   
Harry managed only to nod again, leant against the wall and closed his eyes, feeling the emptiness swallowing him inside.  
“Let’s go to the kitchen,” Louis said, gentle, and pushed him slightly forward. Harry nodded silently one more time and walked forward, not even taking his coat off. He was still cold.  
He flopped down onto the chair, and soon Louis put a hot cup of tea in front of him.  
“Harry, hey, it’s fine.”  
“Could it have been because of- because of wine?” he heard hope in his own voice.  
Louis shook his head, looking apologetic.  
“Harry, look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”  
“No need to apologize, Lou. It happened on itself. You- It’s not your fault,” he said stubbornly, looking at his feet, still in shoes. A little leaf was sticking to the right toe.  
“Harry, you just need to realize it’s okay, alright? You are absolutely normal,” now Harry could hear strong emotions behind the words. He sounded… Worried? He worried about Harry? Louis sounded exactly like his mom did that evening. Harry nodded.  
“Why- Why did I like girls before?”  
“Perhaps you are bisexual,” Louis shrugged, confirming Harry’s own thoughts. “It’s when-”  
“Yeah, I know, I know. So it can be that I like specifically you, and not any other guys? Plus Mark,” he added quietly.  
“Are you so afraid to accept it?”  
Harry thought about it. After all, he had done it before. He took a breath, gathering as much air as his lungs would allow, and said,  
“I’m Harry and I like boys,” something shrinked inside. He was fourteen all over again. And he was scared. He didn’t feel any better. Louis laughed softly,  
“Well done, Curls. Welcome to the club,” Harry felt warmth inside at the nickname. Was his kitten able to purr again?  
“Lou?”  
Louis raised his eyebrows.  
“Can we like-not-”  
“Not date? Sure, no pressure, take your time.”  
“Thank you,” Harry said with relief, and Louis clapped him on the shoulder.  
“You know, if you have any technical questions — I’m always here,” Louis winked. He was always joking when he felt like shit. Harry must have hurt him so much today, hadn’t he?  
“Lou?”  
“Curls?”  
“Could you sit with me until I fall asleep?”  
“Sure. Take your tea and let’s go. Today you are sleeping at mine, baby.”  
“Idiot,” Harry said under his breath.  
“Says you,” Louis didn’t even turn.  
They entered the bedroom and Louis flicked on the lights.  
“Well, feel at home. I’ll go fetch you stuff and blanket.”  
Harry was so grateful that Louis didn’t ask twice before inviting him to his room. Because to go back there Harry was not yet ready. Soon Louis returned,  
“Do you want me to sleep here or on the sofa then?”  
“Here, please. I won’t be able to do it alone,” Harry confessed quietly. To this Louis only nodded, handed Harry his pj’s, took his clothes and went into the shower.   
Harry already changed into a long sleeve and sweats by the time Louis emerged from the shower, water dripping down his hair. He dried his head, switched off the lights and sank into the bed right next to Harry. He reached out without looking, and hugged Harry by the shoulders, pulling him towards himself. Harry went willingly, closing his eyes and resting his head against Louis’ chest, enjoying the feel of his hand in Harry’s hair.  
***  
Louis woke up and looked at himself in the mirror, still in bed. He was on his side, hugging Harry, who lay a bit lower and hugged him back. Louis smiled. Not only to the fact that for the first time in long months he woke up properly hugging someone, someone whom he knew for longer than a few hours, but also because he felt like he was protecting Harry. Usually it was Louis being hugged. But now Harry was peacefully breathing against his collarbones.  
Louis couldn’t stop himself, so he cradled Harry’s head, his small hands lost in the mess of curls. Harry inhaled noisily and pulled closer. Louis looked down and saw Harry’s leg lying over his own thigh. He smiled again and kept stroking Harry’s head.  
He didn’t know how much time had passed before Harry moved and raised his head, waking up. He looked at Louis, frowned, and asked,  
“What time is it?”  
“No idea,” he shrugged. Harry sighed, let go of the embrace and stretched, at least as much as the ratio of his height to the length of the bed allowed. He sat up and Louis asked, “Breakkie?”  
Harry yawned widely and turned to him,  
“Is that an order or an offer?”  
Louis shrugged,  
“Then I want porridge with milk and a banana, please,” said Harry, laying back down and wrapping himself in the blanket, so that only his head was visible.  
“Bastard,” Louis grumbled and got off the bed.  
When he was coming back with their breakfast he thought if it was worth trying to ask Harry about yesterday. Today’s morning was pretty nice after all, and that was only the second day after Harry came back. He decided not to spoil the moment, so when he came back and saw Harry almost asleep again, he said loudly,  
“Your breakfast, Curls.”  
“Why so loud,” muttered Harry and sat up again, now making himself comfortable among the pillows.  
“Porridge?”  
Harry nodded and reached for his bowl. For some time they were eating in silence, and then Harry asked,  
“Lou?”  
“Mmm?”  
“About yesterday. I- I’m sorry I fled. You must have felt really offended.”  
Louis remembered the coldness that ran through him after Harry closed the doors yesterday. Emptiness. Fear. He squeezed out a smile and said,  
“Drop it, Haz. I get it, I’ve been through same shit meself, remember?”  
Harry nodded and continued to eat.  
“ ‘Hazza? Really?’ Louis entered the room and placed a mug in front of Harry, while the latter was closing his Skype call with Gemma.  
‘You don’t like something?’ he turned and raised an eyebrow.  
‘Just funny, is all,’ Louis shrugged. ‘Have Gemma been calling you that all the time? Proper nickname?’  
‘Mostly. Why are you laughing? Come on.’  
‘Hazza. So big and still a Hazza,’ Louis kept giggling silently into his cup and Harry glared at him.  
‘And how do your sisters call you then?’  
‘Lou.’  
‘Just Lou?’  
‘Hazza ain’t the top of human thought either.’  
‘Come on. Spill it out,’ Harry shoved his knee with his own.   
‘Alright, alright, the twins when they were little started calling me a boo-bear.’  
‘A boo-bear?’ laughed Harry.  
‘Oi, shut up, Hazza.’”  
Louis shook his head and emerged back into reality. Harry was already sipping his tea, so Louis put his bowl aside as well.  
“Wanna go out today?”  
Harry frowned at the window and winced. It was pouring with rain outside. Louis followed his gaze and said hastily,  
“Forget it,” he pulled the blanket up to his neck and slid down the bed. Louis looked at Harry and saw that he was still very much near him, and hadn’t moved away to his part of the bed. Louis smiled internally and fished out a book from his bedside table, an old copy of “To Kill a Mockingbird”.  
“Is it your favourite book?”  
“Yep,” said Louis and opened the dog-eared page. Harry put his tea aside and lay down as well, putting his head on Louis’ shoulder. “Do you know the plot?” Louis asked when he noticed that Harry was reading it with him.  
“Yeah, I’ve read it a few years ago,” he flinged an arm over Louis’ belly (which was doing flips now), and started drawing circles through Louis’ tee on his ribs. Harry was still frowning though, cutting off any further questions. It seemed he decided to follow the moment, and do what feels right here and now. Louis tried to relax and concentrate on the book. Needless to say, that was the best rereading of the “Mockingbird” he had ever had.  
Louis could imagine what Harry was going through at the moment. All cues were mixed up, the world had turned onto its head. He could have compared thar realization with his break up with Sam. All is changed and yet all is the same. The world keeps spinning, but you stand all alone in the middle of it all, all the stairs broken all the threads are ripped inside, and you keep standing and just waiting for it to go back to normal again.  
Maybe that year of accepting himself had to be just lived through. Louis remembered his mom’s eyes and her tight hugs right after he came out to her. At first she was looking at him, surprised, and Louis felt like if his mom wouldn’t understand or accept him then, the earth and any other support would just crash into pieces beneath him. But no. She only whispered, “Oh, my little boy,” hugged him tightly and didn’t let go of him all evening. He was sitting there, in his mom’s arms, feeling his insides restoring back to normal, brick by brick. The ruined walls were coming back up.  
Harry laid there, feeling Louis’ chest rising and falling with each breath he took. He stopped following the text and was just thinking. Thinking about how fast everything had changed. Same body, same people around, but everything was somehow different. Or same? Here and now was good and quiet. But here and now was the actual problem. Or wasn’t it? Harry was confused.  
He wanted to call his mom or Gemma and tell everything about it. But at the same time he didn’t. He was scared. Many people don’t come out for years, fearing the judgement of their loved ones. But his family was everything for him. Moreover, he had done it before. And he had no close friends, except for Louis of course, and no one else except his family. They had to understand him, or everything would go to shit. Everything.  
“I need a wee,” Harry tore himself off of Louis, and took his phone before leaving.  
He entered the room, trying not to look at the sofa, went out onto the balcony, closed the doors and turned to look at the street. The rain had seized, now it was just drizzling. Funny how fast the snow melted in London. He took a deep breath and dialled his mom. Every dial tone was a torture.  
“Yes honey?”  
“Hi mom.”  
“What happened?” she asked immediately, alarmed, and Harry cursed his own betraying voice.  
“Mum, I-” tears came up to his throat. “Mu-um,” he broke and sobbed.  
“Harry, honey, what happened?”  
“I- Louis- We-” he winced again. Now or never. “Mum, I thinkIlikeLouis.”  
“Like Mark?”  
“Yeah. I think more. I don’t know, mom. I don’t know anything for sure.”  
“Shh, honey. It’s alright. Breathe.”  
Harry obliged and took a deep breath, then another one.  
“I’m so sorry I’m not there with you, honey. You just don’t worry, yeah? I love you. Just don’t worry.”  
“I- I don’t know what to do, mom.”  
The tears kept coming.  
“Try to talk to Louis.”  
“I-”  
“Just talk. Whenever you’re ready. You are in no rush, remember.”  
“What if he-”  
“Harry.”  
“We kissed yesterday,” he whispered, barely audible.  
“Which means it’s not just you feeling this way. You need to talk.”  
Harry kept silent.  
“Harry? Sweetie, you here?”  
“Yeah, mom. Yes, I’m here.”  
“Wait till you are ready and talk to Louis. It is okay that you feel confused now. Louis will understand you.”  
“Yeah,” only said Harry.  
“Maybe he likes you too. Maybe you could date, potentially. It all went well with Mark, didn’t it?”  
“I- What will other people say, mom?”  
“Harry,” he heard her smile. “Harry, I was always under the impression that you weren’t even remotely interested in this sort of thing.”  
“Yeah,” he swallowed a new portion of tears and they stopped coming for a while. “Yeah mom. You are right,” he wiped off his cheeks. “I need to talk to Lou now.”  
“I love you, honey.”  
“I love you too.”  
Harry hang up and put his phone in the pocket. He opened the balcony window, letting the damp air swallow him. It will all be fine. He was normal.  
He heard a knock behind himself. Turning, he saw a worried face of Louis, and his own reflection upon it. His face was red and puffy and clearly lost. He hadn’t seen himself since yesterday. And now he felt there was a completely new person looking back at him. But Harry didn’t yet know whether he liked that person or no.  
“Harry,” he read on Louis lips. Harry opened the doors. The reflection of puffy eyes and tangled hair disappeared and he felt immediately better. “Harry,” whispered Louis, hugging him. He carefully stroke his back, and the storm inside Harry was gradually dying down.  
“Let’s go to a cafe, Lou,” he murmered into his tee. Louis was standing on his tippy toes and on the threshold, so that Harry could rest his head on his shoulder, and that was unbelievably cute. But Harry didn’t have the strength to say even a “thank you”. He squeezed out, “please, I can’t be here anymore.”  
“Let’s go,” Louis said quietly and broke their embrace, taking his hand into his own.  
Harry let himself to be led, blindly following behind. He trusted Louis. Louis would take care of him. He was his family, in some sense.  
They entered the bedroom and Louis sat Harry down onto the bed. Harry leant on his knees with his elbows and hid his face behind his hands. He could hear noises of Louis dressing up, and then the latter came up to him and sat down on the floor beside him. Harry felt careful fingers pushing his hands off his face.  
“Curls,” Louis smiled faintly. “Come on,” he nodded at the pile of clothes he had in his hands. Louis had brought new clothes from the room for Harry, so that he wouldn’t have to wear his yesterday clothes. Because honestly, if Harry did, he would just collapse there and then. Shit, he was so grateful.  
“Thanks,” he said with just his lips and took the clothes. Louis squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and left, sitting down on the other side of the bed and engaging himself with his phone. Harry remotely realized and Louis just didn’t want to make Harry feel uncomfortable, with looking at him undressed. He mentally thanked Louis once again and got up from the bed.  
His hands wouldn’t oblige him. It took an infinity to open up the zipper and the button on his jeans. The heart seemed to have left his chest to beat somewhere in his throat. His fingers were trembling, tears getting in the way of his vision. Harry was ready to scream. Finally managing to get out of his pj’s, he stuffed his right foot into the jeans. They were suffocating him now. The hands wouldn’t obey him even more, his head started spinning. He took a deep breath and sniffled loudly. Louis clenched his fists, but didn’t turn. Harry dropped onto the bed heavily and closed his eyes really tight. He put his left foot into the fabric and got up again. He managed to pull them up just past his knees, but then his balance deceived him.  
“Lou?” Harry turned to Louis and saw himself in the mirror, how miserable he looked. Eyes red, jeans only half way up, arms trembling. He broke. Nothing will be normal ever again. He was abnormal. He was disgusting. He kept lying to everybody his whole life. He pretended to be normal. Harry hated himself.  
Louis turned and his eyes went round. He got up at once.  
“Help me, please,” quietly murmered Harry, looking at him, lost completely.  
“God, Harry,” Louis muttered, dropping to his knees in front of him. He pulled the jeans up easily and zipped them.  
“I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t apologize,” Louis looked at him, clapped his thigh lightly and straightened up.  
He helped Harry out of his tee, Harry having to only raise his arms. A chill ran down his skin when the long sleeve flew to the bed. It was odd that the one Harry fled from yesterday, was his only support today.  
Louis took Harry’s sweater and carefully pulled it over Harry’s head, helping him get his hands through the right holes. He pulled it down and ran his hands over it to ease all the creases.  
“Here you go, Curls. Amazing as always,” Louis smiled softly and looked at Harry. “Don’t cry, love. You gonna be alright, yeah?”  
Harry wanted to believe him. Wanted to look in those eyes and believe. Wanted to be more than a helpless mess not even able to pull his jeans up. He wanted both everything and nothing at the same time. He couldn’t bring himself to smile, so he just swallowed everything he had in his mouth and looked at Louis.  
“Thank you,” whatever time he murmered, and took Louis’ hand, squeezing it, trying to prove his words real. He let them go and looked up again.  
“We have to do something with your hair, Curls.”  
“It’s damp there anyway.”  
“A hat?”  
Harry nodded and Louis handed him his favourite fedora. Harry put it on and looked at himself in the mirror. He sniffled and sighed again, letting the air out slowly. The mirror got foggy.  
He turned and followed Louis out into the corridor. He soon got out on the landing, Louis right after him, locking the doors behind them.  
Harry suddenly realized that there will probably be people in the cafe. People, so normal and happy, and he immediately didn’t want to go.  
“Lou,” Harry stopped.  
“Curly?”  
“Let’s not go?”  
“Alright,” only shrugged Louis. “Wha’ about a picnic?”  
Harry breathed out his relief and nodded thankfully. He didn’t wanna go back into the flat. Not now.  
“Come on then,” Louis took his hand and gently pulled him forward. Harry realized he had been absolutely motionless before. And so he obliged to Louis once again, blindly following him to the car.  
At some point they stopped on their way, and Louis said,  
“Be here in five,” and got out of the car.  
Harry frowned and looked out the window. They had parked beside a pizza place. It seemed like Louis was getting pizza for their picnic. Harry just thought that it must be gross and wet and sloppy everywhere, what with all the rain and not completely melted snow, and that a picnic wasn’t the best idea. But then he just decided to trust Louis.  
They got on the road again, and Harry lost track of time. He couldn’t tell if it was still morning, noon or the evening was already approaching. All he could tell was that inside of him there was a giant hole about to swallow him up.  
They stopped again, and Harry emerged from his thoughts. They were in some park. Harry hadn’t been there before. He looked at Louis and frowned. The latter just handed Harry the pizza and drinks, and hopped off the car. Harry got out as well and looked around. Louis was doing something in the boot.  
“Curls?” he called finally.  
Harry came up and almost smiled. Louis was sitting there, in the boot, cross-legged on a blanket that was always in the car. He motioned for Harry to get in as well. There was quite enough space for them and pizza, and when Harry sat down, Louis handed him his drink.  
They left the boot door open, and so now they got to feel the cold breeze. Harry even thought that he felt good. He opened the pizza box and handed a piece to Louis, then took one for himself. He took the box in his arms and changed his position, so that now he and Louis weren’t facing each other, but sat rather parallel.  
“Hi, Curly,” smiled Louis, making himself comfortable in the new position. Harry placed the box into his lap, and let his feet hang off the edge of the car. He rested his head on Louis’ shoulder and munched silently. It felt good. Quiet. Maybe it was still a fat stretch to pink clouds, but now Harry felt like the rain. He was the rain. Very regular, calm, and not at all difficult. He wanted to be the rain.


	13. chapter 13

“Now you can start working on your homework,” Harry hopped off the table he’d been sitting on and sat down on the actual chair behind his desk. There was still about fifteen minutes left till the class ended, and he was already super not into it. The rain was drumming on the window again, mixing up with the melting snow — a very accurate representation of how Harry actually felt. He closed his eyes and leant back in his chair, sinking into the memories of yesterday. It was quite a cocktail of tears, pizza, rain, his mom’s voice and Louis’ arms. They didn’t talk that much yesterday — Harry wasn’t really in the mood for it, you see. They had almost unpacked Harry’s suitcases, and at the end of the day Louis proposed Harry cancelled his classes the next day and just had a quiet day home with a sleep in, but Harry thought that the earlier he came back to his normal routine the better.  
This night, when he woke up, he even felt happy for a second. Louis was hugging him in his sleep, the rain was falling behind the windows. It was quiet, calm and just good. He was the rain. He buried his face into Louis’ tee and got hit by all the why’s because of which he was sleeping with Louis and couldn’t just be alone in his room. He closed his eyes, pressing closer, and actually pulling Louis towards him. The latter just mumbled something sleepily and cradled Harry’s head in his hand. And then the morning came, along with the silence. And again they both had first periods in, porridge and tea at the kitchen. Shower, dressing up with shaking hands, the car, stairs and the classroom. Harry could bet his head that this was actually the dullest class he’d ever led, but he couldn’t really care about it at the moment. Even the kitten inside ran off to he knew not where, and swift emotions inside changed for emptiness quite a lot.  
Harry heard the sound of a door closing, the smell of coffee hit his nostrils. He opened his eyes and saw an empty room. Beside his table stood Louis, two plastic cups in his hands, looking him straight in the eye.  
“Sorry Curls, the coffee machine ain’t got tiramisu.”  
“Thanks,” Harry said quietly and coughed. “Thank you,” he repeated louder and reached for his coffee. Latte was burning his lips and bringing him back to reality with each sip.  
“How is it goin’?” Louis kept trying to chat with him like they used to before, as if everything was completely normal. He sat onto the desk and looked at Harry. “Your student looked proper dejected, you know. You must have given them a Van Gogh essay, eh?”  
To his own surprise, Harry felt the corners of his lips rising. He smiled. Weakly, but he did. Louis’ eyes lit up, but he looked to the window at once, trying not to embarass Harry.  
“The weather to-”  
“Yeah, I just decided to see what they’ve got, you know,” Harry shrugged. That was the first wholesome sentence he had produced lately. Louis knew his favourite artist. He knew even such little things.  
“Cruel,” Louis shrugged, dramatic. “How do they even endure you,” he shook his head. “Wanna go get lunch today together?”  
“Yeah, I have-”  
“Two more classes. I didn’t have amnesia, Curls, I know your schedule down to a t,” Louis looked rather pleased with himself and nodded at the entrance. “And your next class is on the second floor. Let’s go.”  
Harry almost forgot how close he had become to Louis in those few months they knew each other. They knew all those little rubbishes about the other. They cared about each other. Harry suddenly realized that Louis hadn’t left Harry’s side for longer than five minutes yesterday, all the time trying to guess what he wanted.  
His next two classes Harry tried to be more active and not make the students write an essay on the first day of class. The coffee helped him with that, he thought. When the last students left, Harry grabbed his belongings and went down towards the exit, where Louis was already waiting for him. His classes had ended an hour ago, he must have been starving by now.  
“Alright?” he asked, as usual. Harry nodded. They ran down the stairs and walked towards the cafe.  
“Just like the first day,” murmered Harry, looking at his feet, a faint smile on his display.  
“Yeah, only I’m not surprised at your bizzare coat anymore.”  
“And I can put together books and tattoos,” Harry raised his head and looked at Louis properly. He was smiling. Smiling in the way that made him look like a kitten. Crinkles around his eyes, the button nose a bit stretched out. Louis was really cute, thought Harry.  
“My pleasure, Curly,” he said, holding the door open for Harry.  
“Thumbs,” quietly murmered Harry. He didn’t know if Louis even caught it. “How did your classes go?” Harry asked when they made their order.  
“Alright. I’ll have lots to mark by the end of the week, but we are entering the twentieth century with my sophomores,” he winked. “Two more classes — and I’ll finally love my job again,” he smiled.  
***  
After the cafe they went home and started preparing for the coming classes. Harry even managed to get lost in the work for a while and forget his problems. Louis ordered in some food for them for dinner. They spent the evening eating and watching “Friends” in Louis’ room. Harry liked that show. It transferred him into that cosy morning when he had no problems except for keeping Louis away from the alcohol. At some point he barked out a laugh, at which Louis squeezed his shoulder, smiling. It was funny how before he had to deal with a broken Louis, and now it was all reversed.  
Harry started thinking what it would feel like to date a guy properly. Date Louis. They would go on all them dates, and everyone would look at them strangely. Harry wouldn’t be able to kiss Louis in the street without the fear of judgement from a random passerby. Harry remembered that time at the coffee shop and the rude man. They were there as freaking friends. On the other hand, he didn’t get angry because he was thought gay. He got angry because somebody had offended him and Louis. Maybe it wasn’t that bad after all? There are gay couples who don’t care about others’ looks? The majority of people would probably either don’t pay any attention to them or be too busy to actually care. Should it worry Harry that much? Nope. Does it worry him? Definitely yes. But the thoughts of how nice it could be to actually date Louis wouldn’t leave him. Harry understood that he had fallen for him. Fallen a long time ago, but fully realized that only now. Did he really have a choice? He had already come back to London, and running away made no sense now. Ignoring his feelings would be unjust at least towards Louis. Louis was worth enduring a few judging passerbys. Fuck it, Louis was worth enduring a thousand of them.   
But filthy doubt wouldn’t leave Harry. He took a deep breath. He’d think about it tomorrow. And so he fell asleep on Louis’ shoulder, which he’d become accustomed to lately. He dreamt of Louis. They were together, and Harry felt good. They were properly together in his dream — they were walking, laughing, and holding hands. And Harry wasn’t really paying attention to how the others looked at them. He wasn’t interested. And Harry liked holding Louis’ hand for real, and whisper about the lovebirds into his ear, that were tattooed under his collarbones. He liked sending desire down Louis’ veins with just his breath against Louis’ cheek. He liked seeing his bright lit eyes.   
Harry woke up and took a sharp breath in. He was horny. He was confused.  
“Harry?” asked Louis, frowning down at him. “Is everything alright?”  
Harry didn’t know how everything was. He knew only that he wanted Louis. Maybe then everything would get alright.  
He raised and covered Louis’ mouth with his own. The latter wasn’t responding to the kiss, probably afraid that Harry would leave again. But now it was all different, Harry just knew, he felt it. Now it was him consciously deciding to do that. He ran one hand up Louis’ arm, and tangled it in his hair, and the second one went down his thigh. Harry pressed his crotch against his, and Louis breathed out,  
“Harry.”  
He finally kissed him back, and the desire within Harry burnt with new force, when he felt Louis’ hands on his back and arse. Louis curved his neck when Harry started peppering it with soft sloppy kisses. He felt how gradually arousal took over Louis as well, and that flew Harry even higher. He sat onto Louis and dragged off his tee — Louis repeated the same with Harry’s long sleeve. Harry bent right back down and left kisses all over Louis’ tattoos — on his arms and chest. There were many of them, and Harry liked it. Louis was moaning ever so quietly, and Harry liked that. His hands would tangle in Harry’s hair and sometimes drag them up painfully, and Harry liked that. Louis’ arse was so nice to squeeze in his long fingers, and Harry liked that.  
He slowly made his way with kisses towards Louis’ belly, all the while looking him in the face, sometimes at his neck, since Louis curved his back up, asking for more kisses. When Harry kissed right above his shorts’ waist and put his fingers under it to drag them off, Louis said, voice quivering,  
“Harry if you don-”  
“I want to,” he said at once, and Louis breathed out a relief and fell back down onto his pillow.  
Inside of Harry whole gardens blossomed at the sight of Louis’ pleasure. He flew up to the pink clouds when he felt Louis’ lips on his skin. He got washed over by the waves of all the oceans, got soaked through under all the rains and burnt under all the suns of this planet. Around him galaxies were blowing up, the stars were born and the chocolate ice-cream was melting. Weightlessness took him and dropped onto the softest clouds. He bathed in the sticky honey and glided through the sleek butter. He was growling — and Louis was purring. He’d been everywhere and simultaneously nowhere. He made love to Louis, love, which he hadn’t made to anybody before. And he like that.  
Harry crashed down onto the bed and felt Louis getting up. But he was way too tired and happy to think where he’d gone to. Some time later he felt a warm wet cloth wiping his belly and Louis kissing him. He just mumbled something back, hoping it sounded grateful enough. The bed went down under Louis’ once again, and Harry reached for him. Louis covered them with a blanket and hugged Harry. The latter buried his head into Louis neck and his breathing started to calm down. He felt so good. He felt better than he’d ever had before. Louis smelled of sweat, something sea-like and of Harry. Harry didn’t particularly know how he smelled right now, but he wanted it to be that. He kissed Louis’ collarbones where he reached it and said,  
“G’night, Lou.”  
“Sweet dreams, Curls.”  
***  
Louis was the first one to wake up once again. It took him a second and a half to realize he was absolutely naked. And an equally naked Harry was lying beside him, hugging and breathing peacefully. Yesterday they had sex. Goodness gracious.  
Is it really possible to feel good sometimes? Louis felt like he had never felt before. The whole night, this morning — it was all unreal. But soon doubts flew into the swirl of happy thoughts. What if Harry just went with the moment and now he would wake up and become terrified? He had been super troubled lately, after all. He was having a hard time accepting himself, and it was indeed a difficult task. It took Louis a whole ass year. On the other hand, Louis had been a teen, and Harry was an adult with his fully formed head on his shoulders, and he had experience in that field. And he had Louis.   
A fear crept in at the thought of belonging. If they start dating, he would be Harry’s. That thought scared the shite out of him. The last time didn’t go so well, did it? But on the other hand, being with Harry felt better. Damn it, wasn’t Louis thinking exactly that after their first date with Sam all those years ago?  
Harry took a sharp breath in and opened his eyes. He raised his head and looked at Louis,  
“Hello,” he smiled, slumber still in his eyes. “Wha’ time isst?”  
“Emm, I don’t know,” carefully said Louis, taken aback by Harry’s calmness a bit. He reached for his phone, Harry’s hand still on his belly, and said, “It’ll be seven soon.”  
“Com’ere,” Harry said in his husky voice and pulled Louis towards himself. And then Louis got flooded with kisses all the way from his hair to his neck. Harry wasn’t kissing him on the mouth, which was good, thought Louis, taking into account they hadn’t brushed their teeth yet. He left the last kiss between Louis’ collarbones, propped himself on his elbows and looked down at Louis. He looked so sleepy yet so satisfied. Louis smiled.  
“Hi Curls.”  
“Thumbs,” now there was a dimple on Harry’s cheek. He was way too sweet, thought Louis.  
“If you only knew how bad your mouth stinks right now, Curls,” Louis pulled a face to conceal his worry. This Harry was completely new.   
Harry crinkled up his nose, but smiled. He kissed him on the forehead and whispered,  
“Wanna wash that off in the shower then?”  
“Only for you, Curls,” said Louis and pinched Harry on his bum. He felt Harry’s smirk against his skin and then he got off the bed, giving Louis a hand. They were so naked, Louis even felt a bit embarrassed. Yes, Harry did walk around in his boxers quite a lot, but now it was all different. They were together. Or at least Louis hoped they were.  
Harry led him to the showers without another word, and Louis thought that now everything was back in its place again. It was Harry being responsible and leading Louis now, and not vica versa. Louis was scared of the sudden change in Harry, even if it was for the better.  
His thoughts got interrupted by the coldness of the tiles beneath his feet. Here it was. Now he would take a shower with Harry. Something resembling fear clang to his insides. What would Harry feel? But all the thought melted away when Harry stopped before in front of the cabin, turned towards Louis and took both of his hands into his own.  
“Lou?”  
“Curls?”  
“Are you okay? I mean, you look so nervous. Did you- Didyoulikeyesterday?” said Harry really fast.  
“What? Harry! Of course I did! It’s just- You changed so fast,” Louis looked at his feet. He didn’t want to bring Harry into the previous mess of days. “I just don’t get it,” he looked him in the eye again.  
“It’s all well, Lou. I promise,” he smiled softly. “I’m fine. I want it. Let’s go shower?”  
Louis nodded and Harry smiled even wider. He got inside, turned on the water and then invited Louis in, helping him. The water was scolding hot. But not hotter than the feeling inside Louis at the sight of a naked Harry, water running down his shoulders, eyes shining with something very soft and engaging. Harry was currently squeezing shampoo out onto his palm, and even that looked sexy, damn it. He brought his hands up to Louis’ head and started massaging it gently.  
“Curly, if you gonna wash my hair every day, I will make you breakfasts my whole life,” Louis said, satisfied with all his life choices.  
“Dully noted,” he heard a smile in Harry’s low voice and smiled himself. He must have looked like an idiot right now.  
Harry put his hands on his shoulders and guided Louis under the water, washing away his shampoo with gentle fingers. Louis opened his eyes and saw concentration on Harry’s face. The water was running into his eyes, so he had to squinch them. He took Harry’s wrists in his hands and stopped him.  
“May I?”  
Harry smiled again and nodded. He bent his head down, so that Louis didn’t have to get on his toes to shampoo his hair. Harry growled lowly and gently, so gently Louis could compare it to purring. He could stand like that forever, but the morning wasn’t infinite. Louis got Harry under the water as well, and helped him wash off the shampoo. And now the most interesting part started. Harry looked at him and smirked, devil in his eyes.  
“Thumbs.”  
“Curly,” Louis smiled stupidly.  
Harry squeezed some gel out onto the body scrubber and squeezed it to get the foam going. He put one hand on Louis’ shoulder and with the second one started soaping up his chest, shoulders and back, all painfully slowly and sexy. Harry was looking Louis in the eyes all that time, and the latter couldn’t look away. He never noticed just how green they really were. Now though, with each second passing, the green was reducing and being replaced by the black of his pupils, which were as big as they could go now. Now his hand was on Louis’ arse, and he dropped to his knees to soap his legs properly. The stare had to break, though. Louis suppressed a nervous laugh when Harry tickled his feet with the scrubber and instead tangled his hand in Harry’s curls. Harry looked at him, still on his knees. Oh, damn it. He reached and turned on the water so that it would wash away the foam off Louis. When he was nice and clean, Harry turned the water back off, and Louis flew far-far away from the feel of Harry’s lips.  
He didn’t get to wash Harry, but he was more than happy when they got out, Harry rubbing him in the towel. His lips were rather wet and red, and Louis didn’t risk looking at them so as not to drown in his desire again. He closed his eyes and rested his head on his shoulder. Harry hugged him and led Louis back into the bedroom. He soon was lying back down on the bed, and Harry covered him with a blanket.  
“Curls, what time is it? Won’t we be late?” how did he even managed to remember they had a job to go to?  
“Shh, what do you want for breakfast?”  
“You.”  
“Idiot,” Harry snorted. “Wait here,” he kissed him on the forehead again and Louis rolled over onto his side, eyes closed again and afraid to ruin the magical mood.  
Harry came back bringing the smell of a freshly brewed coffee with him. Louis made himself sit up and opened his eyes. Harry placed his coffee and a bowl of porridge onto his bedside table.  
“Thanks, Curls.”  
Harry winked at him and flopped down onto the other side of the bed. Louis was just looking at him and trying to comprehend the last night and the morning. He had to ask.  
“Harry?”  
“Mmm?” Harry frowned and looked at him, munching on his porridge.  
“I wanted to ask,” Louis put his bowl on the bed and turned to face Harry. He had to ask. He took a deep breath, and, “We are dating, right?”  
Harry was looking at him, still frowning, and Louis felt like with every beat of his heart something was leaving him. He was blowing away. Like a balloon. Why was Harry not answering?  
Harry looked down at his plate and cup and put them down on the floor. Louis was left with the sight of his back for a few seconds. What was even going on? Harry straightened up, and all Louis managed to see was his frown, and then his mouth was on his, and Louis forgot how to breath. After a few demanding seconds, Harry tore off and looked at Louis closely.  
“Will you be my boyfriend, Thumbs?” he said it very seriously, but the last word gave it all away. Louis smiled sweetly. “Kitten,” suddenly said Harry, relaxing. He looked at Louis’ lips and licked his own, smiling.  
“Kitten?”  
“You look like one when you are smiling.”  
“Oi, shut up.” Harry leant forward and kissed Louis again. Louis felt his lower lip being bitten, then sliding away from between Harry’s bite. Louis was ready to moan, when Harry startled.  
“What the-”  
“We have to go out in three minutes!”  
“Bloody hell!”  
***  
They ran up the stairs to the school, Louis clutching Harry’s arm for dear life, because them damn steps were way too sleek. They entered the hall and Harry stopped, panting, and looked at the clock. He exhaled with relief and Louis looked over, still squeezing his sleeve tightly. They had five minutes left before the class. Excellent. Harry moved and now he was holding Louis’ hand in his. He turned to Louis, blocking off the view of the hall from him and smiled.  
“Have a good day, Thumbs,” he whispered and winked at Louis, gently squeezing his fingers.  
“You too, Curls,” Louis smiled. A dimple appeared on Harry’s cheek again, he winked at him one last time and turned away. Louis looked after him, standing in the hall for a good minute after, until he heard a familiar voice.  
“Nice job, Tommo. Seduced Harry already. Ai-ai-ai.”  
“Shut up, Nialler.”  
Niall laughed and raised his arms in the air, surrendered. He was already retrieving, when he screamed, laughter still in his voice,  
“Don’t forget to make me your best man, Tommo!”  
“SHUT UP, NIALLER.”   
***  
“Don’t forget to upload the final draft on Friday before class. See you on Thursday!”  
Students sent him “Goodbyes” and “See-you-Thursday’s” all leaving the room, and Louis felt goosebumps down his back. He got up and started putting his papers into his bag. Now he’d go to the common room, and there’ll be Harry. And they probably will have to tell everyone, if Niall hadn’t done so already. Or Harry wouldn’t like to yet? Maybe he changed his mind? Maybe he just went with the flow and didn’t want to disappoint Lou-  
“Thumbs?”  
Louis snapped his head up and left his attempts of trying to fit in a pile of rough drafts into his bag. Harry came up to his desk, two plastic cups in hand.  
“Coffee?” he asked, handing him one. Louis swallowed and exhaled, reaching out for his. Louis wouldn’t be able to explain why he was suddenly afraid of Harry now.  
“Thanks,” he put his cup onto the table, dropping heavily onto his chair.  
“Thumbs, are you okay?” Harry bent down, putting his coffee aside as well. “Lou?” he grasped the edge of the table and looked at Louis.  
“I-”  
“Do you not feel well?”  
“I do, Curls, I- I just-”  
Louis stopped when he felt Harry’s hand on his cheek. He slowly followed his cheekbone with his thumb and Louis looked up. His hand was warm, but the fingertips cold. Harry still slowly bent down until his eyes were on the same level with Louis’. When he spoke, Louis could feel his hot breath on his cheek, barely hearing the words.  
“What’s wrong, Lou?”  
Louis felt something opening inside. Something warm, and very, very dark. He leant forward and connected their lips. Harry exhaled into the kiss and put his second hand on Louis’ cheek. They broke the kiss, but stayed very close still, their foreheads touching, Harry’s hands still cradling Louis’ face.  
“Coffee,” Louis reminded gently.  
“Yep,” Harry closed his eyes and drew a line with the tip of his nose against Louis cheekbone. It felt so obvious and used to — something cringed inside Louis. It felt as if he had lost Harry a long, long time ago and now he finally found him. “Tea,” the corners of Harry’s mouth went up, the right slightly higher than the left, and he smacked a kiss on Louis’ cheek before straightening up. He took his cup again and sat on the edge of the desk. “How did your class go?”  
“Alright. Have a shit ton of essays on poetry to check on the weekend.”  
“Oh-h,” Harry took a sip. “Can I help you?”  
“If you mark some as well,” Louis zipped up his bag and put it beside the chair. “You’ll be priceless.”  
“No-no-no. There will be a price. A quite certain one,” he raised his eyebrow and took another sip. Louis smiled and shook his head. He took a sip of his coffee and looked back up at Harry.  
“Curls?”  
“Thumbs?”  
“Do you fancy going to a cafe tonight?”  
“Oh-h, have you just invited me for a date then?”  
“Stop scoffing at me. I’m trying to be normal.”  
“Alright, I’ll go to your normal cafe.”  
“My sincerest thanks.”


	14. chapter 14

“Ready?”  
“Yep,” Harry buttoned up his shirt and fixed his hair, looking at himself in the mirror in the hall.  
“And who is the Thumbelina, huh?”  
“Well, if you want, I can just not give a shit about our first date.”  
“Shut it, Curls.”  
Harry smiled at Louis reflection and turned. He threw on his coat and bent down to put on his shoes.  
“But mind you, no sex on the first date. I’m a good boy.”  
Louis just looked at him, arms folded over his chest, and barely contained himself so as not to roll his eyes. Harry straightened up, smile still there, and gave him a hand.  
“Technically, it was me inviting you,” Louis said under his breath, letting Harry take his hand.  
“I thought we were for equality?”  
“Well yeah. Or someone’s got freaking long fingers which ain’t really possible to be held-”  
“Yesterday you didn’t seem to mind them,” said Harry with a quiet smile and sniffled.  
Louis hit him on the bum with his knee.  
“Oi!”  
***  
“Harry?”  
“Lou?” Harry tore his eyes off the menu and looked at him.  
People were passing behind the window, merging into blurry figures, hugged by the dark fog. The other side of the road was lit by the street lights, making everything look soft and cosy. Quiet music was playing in the restaurant, mixing up with the voices around them. It was a bit hot in there, and Harry regretted that he put on a sweater instead of a shirt. Louis had been looking at him strangely all day, as if afraid he would disappear the moment they bring the bread.  
“I- I wanted to tell you summat.”  
A waiter came up to them and they made their order. When he went away, Harry reached out and covered Louis hand with his own, like he had done so many countless times before. Louis turned his hand and gently squeezed Harry’s fingers, thankful for support.  
“I really wanted to tell you about my past relationship. About the last one.”  
Harry then took his hand in both of his and started rubbing soothing circles into Louis’ knuckles with his thumbs. Louis smiled, a bit embarrassed, and looked around. Nobody was actually looking. Harry didn’t want to say anything, he thought it would be easier for Louis anyway. Easier to say everything he thought important in one go, rather than answer awkward questions.  
“So his name was Sam, and we got acquainted four years ago in back in Donny. I was finishing my bachelor degree, and he arrived as an exchange student into the other uni there. We actually saw each other on a bus. You see, I was returning from some crazy party, proper drunk, and it was pretty late then so the bus had almost no people in. I went towards the very end, I’ve no idea why, but I was super drunk. And the bus started moving and I just fell. Well, sat right onto me bum in the middle of it. Of course nobody rushed to help me, but suddenly red curls blinded me. I looked up and I saw Sam. He actually helped me get up and sat beside me afterwards. I leant against his shoulder and that’s how we spent the rest of the way. I don’t remember any shite we’ve talked about, but in the morning I got a text from a “Sam from the bus” and we kinda fell into texting each other. Then we met up again, I was sober, and we started dating. It was all really good and I couldn’t even believe it. You see, I never really had a proper relationship before, and there I was, everything so simple and nice. Even the fact that we parted after a few months didn’t stop it. We visited each other quite often, it all was really well. We called each other every day, then I showed him to my family, and my sisters loved him. Then he moved to London, and we started seeing each other so much more often. But the problem there was that he wouldn’t agree to move in with me. He insisted on having a separate apartment. And then… Then it kinda all started wearing off and going to shit. You know how that happens. And then it got on me finally, I was still in love with him after all, but he probs wasn’t. So I went there, to his apartment, with a bottle of his favourite wine and wanting to just sit down, have a proper conversation and set it all straight. Go back to normal. I rang his bell and she opened the doors. A girl. I even thought maybe it was his sister or something. We were having a good relationship, he couldn’t- And then Sam emerged. You should have seen his face! But mine probably wasn’t much better. So he came out onto the porch to me and the girl stayed inside. He couldn’t even say something normal, just kept mumbling something. And then he said, ‘Sorry Lou, I’m in love with her’. Her, Harry, you see? He fell for a freaking girl, not even a man! And after that I kinda closed off. I was never quite like that before. I started drinking a lot, wouldn’t leave me flat, the boys were going crazy. Liam actually managed to drag me out to play footie sometime in July. After that I would come to the pitch almost every day and play on my own. Then they took me out to club one night, and after that again, I started going there even when I had no company to go with. I would waste all my money on alcohol, barely made it from month to month. But then the school year started and you came in. And everything kinda settled down on its own. You distracted me, and I guess the boys felt relieved finally. So thanks, I guess. And also in October, the day you went to an exhibition and then bought that poetry book of yours, and we read it till the night fell in the park. That morning Sam actually texted me. He asked for help. I came, I don’t know why, but I did. And there his girl lay, unconscious, filled with drugs. I drove them to the hospital, turned her in, gave all the docs, explained everything I could and just left. I wasn’t even interested how would everything go there. I realized that day I didn’t really feel anything towards Sam anymore. Like at all. And then we were sitting in the park with you, and Harry, then- Then I felt good again. Better than I had for a very long time.”  
Louis looked Harry in the eye and bit his lips, as if apologizing for such sincerity. Harry felt Louis’ palm getting sweaty in his own. Their waiter came up again, with their order. They didn’t even notice him. All the time Harry was just looking in those blue-blue eyes, thinking how many more beautiful things were hiding behind them.  
“Thank you,” he said quietly.  
“Well, if you are still here, it means it’s not that shitty after all, is it?” Louis smiled timidly.  
“Seems so,” Harry smiled back and dropped their hands. He let go of Louis’ hand and raised his glass. “Here is to a little Louis with a big heart.”  
“You are cheesier than ‘Titanic’, you know,” Louis made as if he were about to puke.  
Harry smiled and Louis narrowed his eyes at him.  
“You are not telling me it’s your favourite film?”  
Harry smiled even wider and clinked their glasses. He took a sip, still smiling, and Louis shook his head.  
“What have I gotten meself into.”  
Harry raised his eyebrows and started eating.  
“Lou?”  
“Curls?”  
“I’ll have to tell my mom somehow.”  
“About us?”  
“Yeah. And about the fact that I’m, emm, -”  
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Can I help you with it?”  
“What if we invite her for dinner?”  
Louis froze, his fork half way up to his mouth. He gathered himself back together and blinked.  
“But she is in Holmes-Chapel?” he sounded almost hopeful.  
“Well, we called the other night and she said she’d be in London this weekend. Running some errands for Robin’s work, so she asked if we could meet up. So if you didn’t mind, I’d like to invite you to dinner with my mom on Saturday,” Harry kept trying to find the right words, so as not to scare Louis off. He understood that they were moving way too fast, and that could throw off anyone. After all, they’ve been dating only for a couple of days now, and meeting the parents was supposed to bring them to the next level, when they hadn’t even covered the first ones properly. “Lou?”  
“Yes, yeah, sure thing,” Louis nodded and looked at his plate. He kept his head down for about a minute, and then he took a deep breath and looked up at Harry. “Curls?”  
“Lou?”  
“What if your mom doesn’t like me? I mean, I’m just a bloody professor, plus lots of tattoos, past with alcohol? Moms don’t usually like people like me.”  
“Well yeah, because I don’t have a single tattoo, work as a supermodel and had no problems in the past. Lou, I told my mom so much about you. She knows I like you, but I haven’t told her we are together yet, I wanted to do it in person.”  
“Oi.”  
“What? You were keeping me in secret?” Harry smirked.  
“Well,” Louis bit his cheek. “I talk to Lottie quite a lot.”  
“Here you go. And I don’t mind getting to know your family, if you wanna we can go visit them any weekend. Whenever you want to.”  
“Really? I’ll think about it, Harold.”  
“Can I take it as a yes?”  
“Yes,” Louis showed him his tongue. “Is it even legal to do on the first date?”  
“What exactly?”  
“Invite to show to your parents.”  
“Well, I guess in our situation it is.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“Well, there was a night, you know. We started from slightly another end, if you recall,” Harry winked at him and he could swear Louis’ cheeks had gained some colour.  
“Can you really forget it,” Louis muttered. “I was afraid you’d wake up and want to forget it all, you know.”  
“I’m sorry, Lou,” Harry reached out for his fingers once again. “The time I fled I was just scared to shit. I told you. And I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how you felt that night.”  
“It’s fine now. Now is more important, yeah? ‘Carpe Diem’ and all that,” he squeezed Harry’s fingers and let them go. Harry breathed out and smiled softly.  
“Thanks,” he said quietly and Louis’ smile grew.  
“Stop it, Curls, or we would really make a nice couple in Titanic soon.”  
“I wouldn’t mind.”  
“Screw you.”  
They left the restaurant when the streets were already almost empty. It was a weekday after all. Harry ran up to the driver’s door and opened it for Louis. The latter raised his eyebrows,  
“I thought it was me who had invited you for a date?”  
“Let me make court to you, mr. T.”  
“Mr. T.”  
“Exactly.”  
Louis got into the car and waited for Harry to get into his seat. Soon they parked in front of their flat. When they came up to their floor, Harry held the door open for Louis as well, to which the latter only rolled his eyes.  
“Are we sleeping together tonight?” suddenly asked Harry. Louis raised his brows and stared at their reflection in the mirror. He froze, still not having taken off the coat, so Harry came closer and helped him out. That seemed to wake up Louis.  
“I thought sex on the first date wasn’t acceptable?”  
“Nobody said no to huggies though,” muttered Harry and hang Louis’ coat. Louis giggled.  
“What?” Harry turned to him, and he did try to frown, but giggling Louis made him smile.  
“You are so huge and you want ‘huggies’.”  
“I’m huge? I’m normal!” over dramatically offended, said Harry. He took a few steps towards Louis, getting rid of the distance between them, and hugged him by the shoulders. Louis didn’t need any more hints. He hugged Harry back and pressed his cheek against his shoulder, still giggling.  
“You are the best, Curls.”  
“Do I hear Louis Tomlinson complimenting me?”  
“Aha, Carpe Diem and all that.”  
Harry tangled his hand in Louis’ hair, and pulled him closer with the second one. A few minutes later, when Harry practically started purring, Louis decided to break the silence.  
“Is it enough of ‘huggies’ for you?”  
“Hey!”  
“Alright, alright, I’m joking. Go to bed, I just need a wee,” he detangled himself from Harry and the latter rolled his eyes. Louis stood on his tippy toes and kissed Harry on the cheek. Harry stared at him, amazed, but Louis was already closing the toilet’s doors.  
“We need to go on dates more often. You get so soft, Lou!” he shouted.  
“Shut up!”  
Harry smiled to himself and went into the bedroom. He managed to change, or rather undress, and get under the covers when Louis came in and flicked off the lights. He started pulling his shirt off and noticed Harry’s gaze.  
“Don’t stare at me, you pervert,” he turned away, and Harry smiled for a millionth time. That was nice for a change — seeing Harry happy and healthy again.  
Harry closed his eyes and lay there with his hands under his head. When the bed beside him went down, he turned to face Louis. He looked at Harry.  
“Somebody was talking about ‘huggies’?”  
Harry smirked lopsidedly and Louis turned his back towards him, Harry spooning and pulling him closer. He turned and kissed Harry on the nose, or at least he tried to. Louis intertwined their legs and Harry almost jumped,  
“Oi! Your feet are ice cold!”  
“Don’t thank me.”  
“Bastard.”  
“Good night, Curls.”  
“Good night, Thumbs,” Harry kissed the back of Louis’ head and closed his eyes, feeling like that day was probably one of the rightest he could have.  
***  
That Saturday Louis woke up early. Harry lay beside him, still sleeping, and sending puffs of air against his own shoulder. Louis carefully got out from under his arm and took his phone. It was only seven, and their lunch with Ann was only at noon. Harry rolled over onto the other side and coiled up into a ball. Louis clapped him on his bum and got up.  
He came back few minutes later with a cup of coffee. Harry kept sleeping, still in his ball, and Louis sat back into his place, propping himself up on the pillow. Harry moved, hugging Louis’ legs, his head now in Louis’ lap. Louis froze for a second, but then took his coffee and his book from the bedside table. He had to calm himself down somehow, and Harry’s poetry book was really helpful in that.  
“Lou?” Harry finally raised his head and looked at him, eyes narrowed against the light from their night-lamp.  
“Curls?”  
“What time is it?”  
“Half past eight, I guess?”  
“Excellent,” Harry stretched, lying properly across the bed now. He then coiled back up, returning his head into Louis’ lap.  
“Are you quite alright?” Louis lowered his book.  
“Get lost.”  
“My legs are numb.”  
“Not the end of the world.”  
“And will somebody make me breakfast?”  
“Uggh,” moaned Harry and propped himself on his elbow, still facing Louis’ knees, which he actually started talking to: “I’m sorry, babes. I’ll be back soon,” and he kissed each one, Louis jumping two times.  
“Oi! It tickles!”  
Harry only winked at him, smirking.  
“Wait for me, Thumbs. I’ll bring the porridge.”  
“Idiot. Can I have a coffee as well, please?”  
“Sure,” Harry hopped off the bed and left the room, stretching again.  
“Nice arse, Styles!”  
“Likewise, mr. T!” he heard Harry’s cry from the kitchen.  
“Don’t forget coffee!”  
“Coffee?” Harry came into the room with two cups in his hands. He gave Louis his, and placed his tea onto his own bedside table. “The porridge will be ready in three.”  
“Thanks, Curls.”  
“Banana or apple one?”  
“Banana. And cinnamon.”  
“Your demands never fail to surprise me, Thumbs,” Harry smiled, coming up to Louis. He bent down and kissed him on the nose.  
“Your mouth doesn’t smell nice, just saying.”  
“You are not romantic at all, are you?”  
“You are enough for two, Curly,” Louis rumpled up his hair and smiled.  
“My porridge must be burning!” Harry kissed him again quickly and ran off into the kitchen.  
Louis laughed at him. He honestly felt like they’ve been together for a few years now, not just a week. And yeah, they had lived together for quite a while now, and were pretty close, but now they actually slept together, ate their breakfasts in the same bed. And the best thing was — they did not have to come up with any excuses for that. It felt so new, but at the same time so used to and just right.  
Harry returned with their breakfast, sat down near Louis and asked,  
“Ready to meet me mom?”  
“Fifty-fifty,” Louis sniffled.  
“Don’t be scared. She’ll like you. She already does.”  
“I wouldn’t be so sure. What if she doesn’t share it with you, but secretly plans my murder already?”  
“Lou,” Harry chuckled. “My mom never keeps anything hidden from me. We’ve always been very close.”  
“Alright, alright, you wouldn’t be the way you are if she was an evil woman, right?”  
“But the world isn’t split into good people and Death Eaters, Louis.”  
“Harry,” automatically corrected Louis.  
“Yes?”  
“It’s not Louis, it’s Harry.”  
Harry kissed him on the cheek and smiled.  
“Literature Professor you are.”  
“They don’t have ‘Harry Potter’ on the reading list.”  
“Too bad. Life would have been so much easier,” Harry sighed heavily, dramatizing everything again. Louis snorted and ran his foot down Harry’s shin. “Oi-oi! I almost flipped my bowl upside down!”  
“Terrible,” Louis shook his head.  
“How do I even live with you?”  
“I ask that meself sometimes,” Louis shrugged.  
“Sleepy hedgehog.”  
“Frog.”  
“Frog?”  
“If I’m a hedgehog, you are a frog.”  
“Highly logical.”  
“I’m a literature professor, I posses no logic, alright.”  
“Don’t come up with excuses, hedgehog,” Harry shoved him in the shoulder lightly and smiled. “Is it good?”  
“Aren’t you tired of asking it every single day, Curls?” not unkindly said Louis. “The porridge is the same every day. Same and tasty.”  
“You are a complete killjoy, that’s who you are.”  
“Joy of porridge?”  
“You could have complimented me!” Harry folded his arms and pouted, looking anywhere but not at Louis. Their empty plates were on either side, standing on the bedside tables. Louis shook his head and ran his fingers up Harry’s arm. The latter glanced at him and looked away again, pouting even more.  
“Curly,” Louis almost whispered, playing along Harry’s game. Harry’s lips twitched, as if suppressing a smile, but he still pretended to pout. Louis grinned at his reaction and now ran his nose up his arm. He lowered his hand and put it on Harry’s thigh, drawing small circles there with his thumb. He then sat into Harry’s lap and hugged him tightly, feeling Harry’s relaxing beneath him and hugging him back. Harry raised his hand and stroked Louis’ hair, while the latter smirked and ran his beard along Harry’s collarbones.  
“Oi! It’s biting!” Harry cried out. “You spoiled such a moment, you prat.”  
“Welcome,” Louis kissed him on the neck, from which Harry winced, but fluffed up Louis hair nonetheless. They got out of bed and started getting ready.  
***  
The meeting with Ann went way better than Louis had expected. After pretty tight hugs they spent a good few hours discussing Harry and his clumsiness. People kept coming and going, Harry kept blushing, then wailing about another story of his little shame, and Louis just kept smiling. That tall long-legged beauty, who was so polite and so clumsy, was now all Louis’. Meeting with his mom somehow made the thought firm in Louis’ mind. That was all for reals. And if Louis doesn’t mess it all up, maybe, just maybe, he would be able to wake up by Harry’s side all his life?  
Louis swallowed hard, and tears flooded his eyes for god known reason. He’d become so petty lately. Damn it. He closed his eyes real tight, hoping that Harry wouldn’t notice.  
It’s just Louis’d been waiting for so long. He had Sam, he had other guys he didn’t mind spending his time with. But he never had Harry. Harry, who was always genuinely interested in how Louis’ day went. Harry, who was drooling in his sleep. Harry, who could spent his whole day composing the goofiest joke, and then present it to Louis with such a pride. Harry, who cried in every single one of the romcoms they’ve ever watched. Harry, who hugged you like it was your last time ever. Harry, who would always come back, no matter what. Harry, who beared Louis on his back for a whole ass week, just because he didn’t want to use crutches. Harry, who always knew how far he could go, and never pushed Louis’ boundaries. Harry, so careful with people, and so clumsy with things. Harry, who turned heads by just passing by, and could trip over his feet the next moment, almost twisting his own.  
“Lou? You alright?”  
Louis felt Harry’s hand on his shoulder. He still sat there on their sofa, eyes shut. He reached out and pressed towards Harry’s side. He hugged him back very tightly, and asked quietly, carefully.  
“Hey, what’s up?”  
Louis could feel his long fingers in his hair and sighed deeply, opening his eyes. He buried his face into Harry’s neck, and said something he had never said before. He almost hoped Harry wouldn’t catch it. He always thought that after saying these words his world would crush to pieces, and he’d just stand in the middle of it all, naked and vulnerable. But Harry was worth it, right?  
“I think I love you, Curls.”  
Harry’s fingers froze in his hair and Louis thought he stopped breathing too. Frankly speaking, Louis forgot how to use his lungs as well. He leant back and looked at Harry. Harry looked so… open, Louis almost jumped at the sight of him. His cheeks red, his lips parted, eyes wide open, and their green was so pure, that if Louis was still breathing at the moment, he would certainly stop right there. For a few seconds he was looking somewhere past Louis, then he finally blinked and focused his eyes on him. Louis heard them both exhaling. He heard buzzing in his ears. Was that too early? Should he have waited for longer?  
“Lou,” said Harry in a husky voice.  
“Harry?”  
“I love you?”  
“You askin’?” Louis laughed, and he didn’t know why. But a tight knot inside relaxed, and he breathed more freely. Harry retrieved his hand from his hair and ran his thumb along Louis’ cheekbone, smiling.  
“I love you, Lou,” said Harry as affirmatively as he could. And then Louis couldn’t really see anything — he smiled so widely his eyes closed. He felt the smile reflected in Harry’s kiss.  
“Wasn’t that too early?”  
“You joking? We are together for half a year.”  
“I beg your pardon? If my memory is not deceiving me, we are together for about five days, including Tuesday, when… well, you know.”  
“When we finally had sex?” Harry smiled, his pupils blown wide.  
“Never thought you were that much down to earth, Harold, but yes, I guess one can say so.”  
Harry kissed him again, his tongue exploring Louis’ mouth, rising the desire up his veins. Harry’s hand squeezed his thigh and he said simply,  
“Sex is beautiful.”  
“Everything is beautiful with you, Curls.”  
And that’s where Harry started blushing. He suddenly looked embarrassed and happy at the same time.  
“What?”  
“Nothin’,” he smiled so widely Louis got scared his face could really crack. “Love you.”  
And it turned out to be that simple to send goosebumps down Louis’ body. He hoped he would be able to pull himself together in the future. But for now,  
“Love you, Curls.”


	15. EPILOGUE

“Oi! You two there, calm down, will ya?” shouted Niall.  
Harry stopped their kiss and clapped Louis on the thigh. He looked from behind Louis’ shoulder on the rest of the boys.  
“Jealous?”  
“Me? I don’t need Tommo in me lap, no thanks. I still need my knees, you know.”  
“Nialler.”  
“Love you, Tommo,” Niall laughed and took a sip from his beer bottle.  
“Don’t blow up,” muttered Zayn and clapped him on the back.  
“I haven’t eaten that much,” frowned Niall and turned to him.  
“Don’t blow up from love, you glutton.”  
“Jealous?” Niall winked with his eyebrows and Harry snorted, hiding his face in Louis’ back.  
“I’m not tha- Oi! Goal!” Zayn jumped to his feet and raised his beer into the air. Niall jumped up as well and hugged him.  
Liam entered the room and pocketed his phone.  
“What the-” he gestured towards Zayn and Niall, who kept jumping in place and hugging. Louis shrugged.  
“Goal,” before he would too jump together with the lads. But lately he seemed to settle down. Or maybe it was just Harry who was sending goosebumps down his body by just being there, and there was no room left for football?  
Liam shook his head and grinned. He clapped the boys on the back and they sat back down. Louis looked at Harry. The latter kept frowning at the screen, pretending to be interested. But Louis knew he didn’t care about the football. He cared about the company, though, and a match was the easiest way to get them all together. Harry noticed his gaze and looked back. He smiled slowly and drew a line with his nose on Louis’ cheek. Somewhere behind them Niall made as if he was sick, and Zayn smacked him on the head. Louis chortled and kissed Harry on the forehead.  
They’ve been together for a couple of months already, but Louis couldn’t stop melting from Harry’s hands still. Sometimes in the nights he would just lay there, absorbing Harry. Harry so calm and so unbelievably beautiful. His lips that went all funny with each breath. His thumb in his mouth, that would be there every other night. When Harry was sleeping he looked like such a baby. He also loved to bury his face into the crook of Louis’ neck and sometimes fell asleep atop Louis. Louis always joked that Harry could really be adult only in the day time.  
Sometimes he went back into the days before he had met Harry. He felt like it wasn’t even him. As if he was walking there without a very important part of himself. How did people not notice that? And those winter holidays — how did he even manage to not see Harry for so long? How didn’t he send everything to hell and just went there? Louis didn’t know. He didn’t know what kept him in place. What helped him not fall apart. Probably his family.  
Family. Tomorrow he and Harry would go to Doncaster, so Harry can finally see them in person. That time, after the dinner with Ann, Louis thought it only fair he called his own mom to introduce Harry. The latter didn’t even flinch when Louis proposed it, or else he was very good at hiding his worries. And ever since that moment Louis felt like his mom started phoning Harry more often than she called her own son. He didn’t know whether to be happy or angry about it really, but at least they got on well, which was the most important.  
Nothing really changed in those months they’ve been dating. But at the beginning of spring Harry decided it was time for him to finally cut his hair. Louis’ sisters were protesting as best they could, but Harry only smiled back. He then said to Louis that he felt very different now, so he wanted to mark it with his hair. Like a new stage in his life. Louis didn’t really get the change, but he suspected Harry was talking about accepting himself and his sexuality. When he could finally be open about it with himself. Louis was so proud of him for that, but couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, afraid he would scare Harry with that. But no, Harry never ran away. He still struggled with it sometimes, still looked around after their shared kisses in public, but Louis didn’t mind it that much.  
With every day passing he grew more and more confident in their relationship. And that burning, airy and inspiring something actually became stronger and stronger each day.  
Louis remembered the day when he first saw Harry without his long curls. He was sitting in the kitchen, trying not to burn his eggs, when he heard the doors shutting and promptly turned off the heat.  
“Curls?” Louis got out into the corridor, wiping his hands on the towel. “How did it go?”  
Harry raised his head and took off his coat. He still kept his beanie on, and he didn’t seem to want to take it off. He looked vulnerable and out of place. As if he’d lost his something with his hair, along with his confidence.  
“Hey, you alright?” Louis put the towel aside and came closer. “Curly?”  
“I- I’m just probably not used it, yeah?”  
Louis raised his eyebrows and smiled. Harry was just looking at him, his hat still hiding his hair. Louis took the last step forward and hugged him.  
“Curly, you do know I don’t give a shite about it?” Louis looked him right in the eye.  
“But if you run away, I’m not judging,” he said, absolutely serious. Louis snorted and shook his head.  
“At least now we know beanies really suit you.”  
“Really?”  
“Yes, Curly. But I’m pretty sure everything isn’t that bad.”  
“Really?”  
“Take off your hat, come on.”  
Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes tightly. His nose wrinkled funnily and Louis couldn’t stop himself. He raised to his toes and kissed the tip of Harry’s nose. Harry quickly took off the hat and opened one eye, as if afraid of Louis’ reaction.  
A very young and a very handsome Harry was looking at Louis now. His hair still curled up at the very ends, still looked messy and unkempt, poking in different directions. And it wasn’t even that short. It was about his chin-length.  
“Now you officially look like Harry Potter.”  
Harry exhaled and rumpled up his hair. He pulled Louis towards himself and kissed him on the head.  
“It really suits you.”  
“Really?”  
“Pinky promise. And you can always grow them out.”  
And so Harry started. No matter how many times Louis would say that he looked good with it, Harry was determined to get his locks back. Louis kept joking about how many bottles of hair product he now had, and how he ran up to him every Sunday, saying they’ve grown a bit more!  
“Hey, aren’t you late for your kindergarten, Curls?”  
“Contrary to the popular belief, I’m not five years old.”  
Today, about four months after Harry’s big chop-off, his hair had grown back quite a lot, and Harry finally liked his look. It was still far from what he had before, but Louis suspected Harry wouldn’t want to go back all the way. Now he looked like a prince, about which Louis never grew tired reminding him. Well, and he also started wearing bandanas a lot, which couldn’t fail to make Louis happy.  
“Tired?” Louis asked, when they flopped down onto the sofa, completely alone now.  
“Of course. Watching football is so exhausting,” Harry nodded.  
Louis smirked and shoved his shoulder. Harry pulled him closer, and Louis lay down, his head in Harry’s lap. He coiled up and Harry rested his hand on his knee. Louis took the bowl with popcorn from the table and put it on the floor near them.  
“Don’t you wanna share?”  
Harry couldn’t see Louis’ face but he could swear that Louis rolled his eyes at the words. Soon Louis’ hand full of popcorn flew into the air and not-so-carefully found Harry’s mouth, shoving it in.  
“Ve’y ‘omanchic,” said Harry through all the popcorn in his mouth.  
“I know, right? Want more?”  
“Of course,” Harry finally swallowed his portion and clapped Louis’ knee.  
“You gonna eat all my food and leave me starving, Curls,” Louis shoved his hand back into the bowl.  
“It was me who bought the popcorn.”  
“It was me who asked you to. And we were at the shop together, anyway,” a new wave of popcorn was sent Harry’s way. This time Harry didn’t let go of Louis’ hand that easily.  
“But it was me who payed.”  
“It just happened to be you tur- Fu-u-u-u!” he took his hand back immediately and rolled onto his back. “Why would you lick my hands? Brr,” Louis tried to wipe his hand on Harry’s tee.  
“Don’t say you don’t like it,” Harry grinned.  
“Do you like somebody else’s saliva?” Louis pulled a face. Harry couldn’t stop smiling.  
“I thought you liked mine quite a bit. At least you did yesterday, and the day befo-”  
“Oi-oi-oi!” Louis blushed. “Tongue and saliva are two different things,” he muttered to himself and turned back onto his side.  
“There is no one without the other,” Harry shrugged.  
“Shut up,” Louis raised a new portion of popcorn to his mouth.  
“Not afraid?”  
“Which part of ‘shut up’ do I need to explain to you?”  
“I love you too.”  
Harry saw Louis’ smile, and opened his mouth for the popcorn. He now kissed every finger and bit slightly on the little one.  
“All them romantics,” murmered Louis to Harry’s knee.  
***  
They arrived to Donny when the night was already falling. They barely made it to the platform, when Louis’ family swept them in hugs.  
“Harry!” cried out the twins and hang on him. Harry clumsily hugged them with both arms and clapped them on the back.  
“Nice to meet you,” he said quietly, grin in place. He looked at Louis, whom his mom was currently swinging from side to side in a tight embrace. Behind him stood Lottie, who was eyeing Harry very closely. The twins finally let him go and he stepped forward, offering her his hand for a shake.  
“I’m Harry, you must be Lottie, right? Lou told me a lot about you,” he hoped his smile looked as amiable as he wanted it to be, but Lottie didn’t seem to change her expression. Harry almost started to panic, when she finally broke into a grin and, ignoring his hand, went for a tight hug. It seemed that Tomlinsons loved hugs quite a lot.  
“Thanks for Louis, Harry.”  
“Wha-”  
But Harry never had the chance to finish the sentence, because Louis’ mom finally noticed him.  
“Harry, hello, dear. I finally see you in the flesh,” she practically tore him off Lottie, who just laughed at it. Harry looked at Louis, bewildered, and the latter just shrugged and tried not to collapse under the weight of the twins, who almost jumped onto him.  
“Mum, where is Fizz?”  
“She is looking after the little ones at home,” miss Tomlinson finally let Harry go and they all went towards the exit.  
The car was way to small for them all, but the twins didn’t seem to mind that much. They climbed into Harry’s and Louis’ lap, and started bantering about their school week almost at once. Harry frowned and nodded in all the right places, but Louis couldn’t get rid of the feeling he looked exactly like when he was watching football. Louis smiled and winked at Harry, and the latter gave him only a faint smile back, before returning to Fibby immediately. He made huge eyes and shook his head. Something really outrageous must have happened to her. Louis chortled silently and hugged Daisy closer to himself.  
“We missed you, boo-bear,” she murmered into his ear.  
“I missed you too, little flower,” he answered just as quietly. “I really did,” he kissed her on the temple.


End file.
